


Deuce of Clubs

by a_stands_for, orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Ashen Romance, Character Death, Criminal Masterminds, Multi, Red Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-02
Updated: 2011-09-02
Packaged: 2017-10-23 08:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 51,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_stands_for/pseuds/a_stands_for, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the Homestuck Big Bang: God Tier 2011.</p><p>In Which John is a Brilliant Sociopath Detective With a Brittle Heart and a Platonic Bed-Hopping Problem; Karkat is the FBI Agent and Relationship-Expert Who Has Been Assigned to Protect Him Because the Approaching Can City Mayoral Election Has the Mobs in a Stir; A Clever Serial Murderer is On the Loose; Jade is Inventing Ectobiology; Terezi Makes a Grown Man Cry; Jack Noir is Easily Distracted by His Arch-Nemesis; Everyone Overlooks the Obvious; Vriska and Eridan Get to Play Hero; Eight People Die Horribly; Five People Get New Quadrants Filled; and the Future of Troll/Human Relations is Changed Forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Day, The First Night

**Author's Note:**

> Story by A_Stands_For, Art by Ferrrox!
> 
> Thanks to Complex Quanta for being my beta!  
> Thanks to Korsetkoat for the character Aven Scree and to Asher Blackwood for the names for Isabeth, Tristan and Gabriel!
> 
> Based off of [this prompt](http://homesmut.livejournal.com/6376.html?thread=7442408#t7442408), the jist of which is: "BBC Sherlock-stuck."
> 
> Some liberties on the way certain quadrants work ~~may have been~~ were most definitely taken. :P

Karkat knew John Egbert was going to be bad for his health the moment he came through the Police Headquarters' entrance, because the human was chatting with Terezi Pyrope and they both seemed to be getting along swimmingly. That spoke _volumes_ for his personality right there. He couldn't hear what they were talking about, but he could take a guess. The beautiful, blind troll was a brilliant prosecutor who had psychologically tormented many a criminal into confessing their crimes, while the pale, gangly human was a genius detective well renowned for his near-mystical ability to deduce the truth out of thin air. Both of them were loved by the distant public, and discreetly avoided by anyone who had met them in person.

Whatever they were discussing, Karkat would bet money that it involved mocking some criminal's stupidity.

Sure enough, as Karkat watched them through the window of Chief Sleuth's office, they broke out into laughter, Terezi's signature fangs glinting in the light. She sniffed the air absently and suddenly frowned, turning this way and that as she sought the source of her puzzlement. Her unseeing eyes paused in his direction, and Karkat cursed as her grin returned, even wider.

With a final parting phrase to her human company, the gorgeous troll turned and strutted away, no doubt on her way to dig through the record room. Karkat struggled to tear his eyes away from her sashaying hips, looking up in time to catch Egbert's sharp blue eyes studying him through the glass, behind a pair of thick, square glasses.

Fuck. Not the first impression he wanted to give someone like _him_.

John stepped through the open door and gave the small office a cursory glance that no doubt still ingrained every last detail into his brain. Problem Sleuth looked up from his paperwork, smiled warmly, and gestured to the seat in front of his desk.

“ _Dear_ nephew--”

“No.”

“I haven't even said anything yet.”

The troll puzzled for a moment over how a carapace could be a human's uncle, then decided he'd rather not know.

“You don't need to say anything, your intentions are obvious! I can take care of myself. Didn't I prove that well enough last time?”

“There's nothing impressive about taking out Biscuits. He doesn't even have any real abilities.”

“Whatever. I'll be fine! I don't need a babysitter, much less one from the FBI.”

Karkat blinked. He was fairly certain that Sleuth hadn't told Detective Egbert why he'd been called in today, much less introduced them yet. He didn't bother to ask how he guessed his profession, though. The troll had already been briefed about the human's uncanny abilities.

“It'll only be until the election is over, lad. I just don't want to see you press-ganged into one of the mobs or dead on the street. The Midnight Crew and the Felt are desperate for any advantage in this race, and for some reason they've both decided that you're it.” Sleuth's voice softened as he leaned forward, trying to convey the sincerity of his concern. “This isn't a problem you can shut out, John. They'll see you dead before they see you help out the other side.”

“I have no intention of helping _any_ side! I just want to solve crimes, not get mired down in politics!” John finally took the proffered seat, slouching his tall frame into it with a childish sulk. Sleuth smiled sympathetically.

“You and me both, kid. But life rarely pays any attention to what the living want. You should know that better then anyone.”

John stared morosely at his fingers, and Karkat mentally ran over the background info in the file he'd been given. _Oh. They must be talking about his human guardian_.

Pretty much all of Egbert's neuroses could be traced back to his father. The man had been brutally murdered when John was only thirteen, along with the guardians of his three closest friends. Wracked with grief, he had sworn to solve the mystery—and he did.

It probably would have been better if he hadn't. Then the illusion of their happy childhoods wouldn't have been shattered so violently.

Egbert looked up suddenly, staring at the top of the Chief's head. “How about if we make a deal?”

“I'm not getting rid of my hat, John, no matter how many times you ask.”

“Come on, you could find one that's so much better! Think of how sharp you'd look!”

“I'm already perfectly dashing, thank you. The hat stays. It's part of my image.”

“It was part of _his_ image, too,” the younger man muttered. Problem Sleuth ignored him with the air of a man who has heard the same argument a hundred times already.

“Anyway, if you're discussing deals then you're not _completely_ opposed to the idea. Agent Vantas, allow me to introduce you to Detective John Egbert. John, this is Agent Karkat Vantas. The higher ups have assigned him to protect you until this election hubbub has blown over.”

Karkat stood up from the chair in the corner where he'd been quietly observing their exchange. John turned to face him, and the intensity of his blue eyes might have been intimidating if he was a troll of lesser mangrit. As it was, he still felt some irritation at the extreme difference in their height. From this distance he couldn't help but notice the sickly, nearly translucent color of the human's skin and the dark bags under his eyes, annoyingly similar to his own. Karkat extended a gray, clawed hand, which Egbert took without reserve. _Good. This mission would be even more unbearable if he was a troll-hater_.

John grinned, and for a moment Karkat was struck by how comical his large front teeth were. Then he noticed the edge of dark mischief to the expression, and knew exactly what was coming.

“So, how long ago did you get dumped by Prosecutor Pyrope?”

Karkat tried not to scowl, but he still betrayed himself by the tightness of his handshake. “Long enough that she wasn't a prosecutor, yet. Care to make any _less_ obvious statements in your quest to show off?”

The dark-haired human blinked, then smiled even wider. “Well, if you're _asking_...” Those blue eyes traveled over his body, studying hands, shoes, suit, and face. “You work with humans on a regular basis. You were in Derse City before you arrived here, which wasn't long ago. You have a close friend who is very fashionable, but you don't live together. You're handy with a gun, but you prefer blades. You're good at your job, but you get picked on by your superiors. And last of all,” he finished, studying the dark circles under his orange eyes, “the reason you got assigned to me, instead of a different agent, is because you're used to going for long amounts of time with no sleep.”

They stared at each other, John looking irritatingly smug, Karkat just irritated.

“Well? Did I get everything right?”

“Sorry, but you missed one.”

“Drat, there's always something. What was it?”

“Figure it out yourself, fuckass.” He took his hand back with a sharp tug and turned to the police chief, ignoring the detective's wide-eyed surprise. “If that's all, thanks for the introduction. I can take it from here.”

“There's more, actually,” Sleuth said somewhat sheepishly. “There's another reason I called you in, John.”

The man turned to meet his uncle's serious gaze, studying him. “Something you need my help on?”

A nod.

“Is it about the recent murders?”

Nod nod.

“Ah.” He half-crossed his arms over his chest, wrinkling his casual dress shirt and vest as he stroked his chin thoughtfully. “There's been another one. But something must be different about it, if you're calling me in. What is it?”

“This time it was a human.”

John's eyebrows shot up. “Well, that changes things. Now the victims have even less in common!”

“Is this about the troll murders?” Karkat asked with a scowl. Even though he hadn't been in Can City for a while, he still kept up with the news, and it was hard to miss something like that. Sollux had sounded very upset about it when last they talked. He and Feferi were campaigning for improved troll/human relations, and the murders were stirring up bad feelings all around.

“It would seem so,” Sleuth sighed. “The method is identical, even though we never released that information. It must be the same perp.”

“Excellent!” John exclaimed with an excited clap of his hands, earning him a fierce glare from his new bodyguard. “The mystery deepens. Is the scene still preserved?”

“The body was only discovered an hour ago. I ordered the team to tape off the area and leave it as-is until I could have a look.”

“Good, good,” he replied absently, eyes already far away. “Let's be off at once!” With that he spun away, long legs carrying him out of the office in only two steps. Sleuth shook his head and grabbed his coat from where it had been resting over the back of his chair. With a glance at Karkat, the two of them headed out of the room with resignation.

“Is this what I have to look forward to?” the troll grumbled as the chief locked up. “Someone who treats death like a game?”

“I know he comes off as a bit insensitive... and he is. But he does care, in his own way.”

Karkat scoffed. “About the puzzle, not the people.”

“No, he takes delight in exposing people's crimes, too. The more tightly a person clings to a secret, the greater the relish he feels upon tearing it from their fingers and flinging it into the light of day.”

Karkat paused for a moment as Sleuth headed for front entrance, comprehension dawning across his gray-skinned face. He stared wide-eyed at the harsh white walls of the police station, not really seeing the wallpapering of posters calling for PM and WV's re-election or touting the Feferi/Sollux party. Instead, the conversation he'd had with his superior when he was assigned this mission was playing through his head once more.

 _So, why am_ I _the one who has to go babysit this misfit? Surely someone who could pretend to be friendly would be better._

 _No, no, we chose you especially. You're the best man for the job._

 _Why, because I'm such an erratic sleeper?_

 _No, not at all, although that's certainly a bonus._

 _Well, I don't get it, then._

 _You'll figure it out eventually, I'm sure_.

Karkat hadn't expected to find the answer so quickly after starting his mission, but there it was. The reason so many people avoided meeting Detective Egbert in person was simple; everyone had secrets, things they didn't want rooted out and laid bare.

But not Karkat.

He had spent half his life cowering under the weight of a secret, and while its revelation had posed many problems in his life, he had never felt so free afterwards. After that he had vowed never to shoulder that burden again. He was a troll who never shied away from the truth, even at the expense of others' feelings. An open book. A man with no secrets.

The perfect man for the job.

* * *

Can City was not so much a bustling metropolis as it was a small, independent nation. What had started as a neutral zone for Dersites and Prospitians had gradually shifted to encompass the green carapaces of Pooligan, a menagerie of consorts and lusii, and eventually even trolls and humans. It was a place where anyone, no matter their species, could walk down the street without feeling the need to pick a fight with their sworn racial foe. Fights broke out anyway, of course, but at least they weren't _obligated_.

And things were getting better all the time. Multicultural studies was one of the basics in any child's education, right next to reading, writing and arithmetic. Karkat absorbed the scenery with interest as the police car navigated the orderly chaos of the streets. Over twenty different architectural styles could be seen in a single sweep of the eyes, all clashing garishly together in a rainbow of color. On the sidewalk, a young human boy was nak naking away with a juvenile crocodile, both enjoying the ice cream they'd just bought from a musclebeast's vendor stand. The summer sun was shining bright and hot, and waves of heat were visible as they reflected off the perfectly straight roads. It would be cooler when evening came around, when most of the troll population began to stir and mix in with the night crowd. Then the encroaching darkness would be kept at bay by thousands upon thousands of dim, colorful lamps.

It was a city that never slept, merely took life in shifts. Ultramodern, ultra-colorful, and ultra-cultured, it somehow managed to feel both relaxed and strict at the same time. There was an underlying order that guarded the peaceful oasis the citizens had forged. An understanding that hard feelings were tough to let go of, but hateful actions would not be tolerated. Someone had coined a phrase a while back, and it spread like wildfire until it became the city's unofficial motto.

Leave Your Shit At the Door.

Karkat couldn't help the smile that tugged the corner of his lips as he felt the rhythm of the city tugging at his blood. It was good to be home again.

“Are you from here, originally?” John asked, and the troll knew it was only phrased as a question out of courtesy. They were sharing the backseat of the paddy-wagon, and the detective had been studying his face for a while now.

“Uh-huh. Spent most of my life here, until I left to join the FBI. I still keep up with my old friends.”

“Hmmm. Maybe you'll get to meet up with them. If you know Terezi, I wouldn't be surprised if we have other mutual acquaintances.”

Karkat grunted, and silence descended between them. Orange eyes darted a glance at the pale figure, retreated, then looked again. At last he coughed and began to speak. “So...”

“Your claws.”

“What?”

“You're wondering how I figured out all those things about you, right?”

“...yes.”

“Your claws are filed down quite a bit. Trolls usually prefer to keep them long, but those that work closely with humans almost always trim them short so they don't accidentally scratch someone. It's something that wouldn't be necessary around other trolls or carapaces, since their skin is even harder.”

Karkat examined the tips of his gnarled hands neutrally. He'd been filing them for several years now, enough that he didn't even think about it anymore.

“My nose told me you came from Derse. Thanks to the city's obsession with purple, they plant lavender in every available patch of dirt they can find. The fragrance is still lingering on your clothes and hair.” The corner of John's eyes crinkled with amusement as Karkat scowled and sniffed at his suit sleeve. “Somehow you didn't look the type to intentionally perfume yourself with such a feminine scent.”

“Fine. How did you know about my fashionable friend that I don't live with?”

“You're wearing some of the latest from Maryalonde, but all the parts are mismatched.” The troll stared at his suit but couldn't for the life of him see any difference between the coat, pants, and shirt. “If you cared enough to buy such fancy clothes for yourself, you wouldn't have made that mistake, so they were a gift. Someone close to you, to have bought several different outfits of something so expensive. And if they lived with you, they would never have let you step out the door looking like that.”

Karkat gave a grudging nod; what else could he do?

“You have a gun under your suit coat and you wear it comfortably, but you also have several knives up your sleeves, and _they're_ what you unconsciously check on when you're irritated. Hence, good with guns but a preference for blades. You must be good at your job since they assigned you this task, considering the strength of my possible attackers. But I took a guess that you get picked on by your superiors because... well, they dumped _me_ on you.” Egbert smiled as he said that, and it was the emptiest smile Karkat had ever seen. “People rarely enjoy working with me.”

The agent crossed his arms and concentrated on making his face as neutral as possible.

“The last one, of course, is because of the bags under your eyes. I'm guessing that's the one I got wrong, though, because I implied it was the deciding factor in your assignment. I shouldn't have said that, it was a dubious qualification to an otherwise reasonable deduction.” Folding his hands across his lap, the pale-skinned man leaned back and watched his companion from half-lidded eyes. “What do you think?”

Karkat glared balefully at him for a few moments before turning away with a snort. “I think you're pretty clever for an idiot.”

John was silent for a moment. “Hmmm,” he finally murmured with a quirk to his eyebrow.

“What?” came the growl.

“It's just, most people only tell me the first part, and then wait until I'm gone to say the second.”

“Well, don't expect any of that shit from me. I don't sugar-coat the truth for anyone, least of all pretentious bastards like you.”

No response. Karkat finally pulled his eyes away from the window to look at his charge, expecting to see the usual offended reaction.

Instead he was greeted by a wide, friendly grin. The troll couldn't help the way his eyes widened in astonishment; it wasn't an expression he was used to seeing directed his way, and it radically altered the human's face. Suddenly Egbert looked less like a cold, calculating sociopath and more like a cheery, playful youth.

“You're kind of funny, Agent Vantas! Maybe having you around for a while won't be so bad after all.”

“Seriously? _That's_ what you got out that exchange?”

“Yup!”

“Are you some kind of masochist? You can't possibly _enjoy_ being insulted.”

“Eheh heh heh,” he laughed, and even his eyes were smiling. The police car was pulling to a stop next to several others in front of an aging apartment complex, and John looked up with glee. “We're here! Let's go, Karkat!”

“Wha—hey, who said you could call me by my first name?” he spat as he clambered from the vehicle. But the detective was already bounding away, as eager to view the scene of a murder as a child is to visit a theme park. Karkat and Problem Sleuth exchanged weary glances, then followed.

The game was, apparently, afoot.

* * *

As soon as they rounded the corner into the secluded alleyway behind the apartments, a hush seemed to fall across the investigators that had been guarding the scene. One of them, a tall and nervous looking carapace, almost tripped over his own feet as he tried to keep a wide berth around John. The detective rolled his eyes. “Easy there, Pickle, I'm not going to bite.” He held out an arm to command his companions to halt as they drew close to the taped off area.

Karkat grimaced. Human blood splatters painted the walls of the surrounding buildings, long lines trailing down to join the pool that coated the cement ground. The murder had obviously been a violent one, and yet there was no sign of a struggle. No overturned trash cans, no trails of blood as the victim tried to flee, nothing. It was as if she had stood there and allowed herself to be beaten to death.

And there in the middle of it all she lay; curly brown hair matted with blood as it fell in curtains over her crushed skull. She looked to be in her early twenties, dressed in plain jeans and sneakers. She was lying face down, and across her back most of her shirt had been seared away. Charred into her skin was a large, petal-shaped burn.

“Her name was Cynthia Greene,” Sleuth said sadly as John slipped under the police tape, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. “She lived alone in this apartment complex. According to her neighbors she was a little odd, but sweet. Didn't have a mean bone in her body. All she had was pepperkind in her strife specibus.”

“I know,” the dark-haired man replied. “I can smell it from here. The murderer sprayed it all over her after she was dead.” He proceeded to crouch down and pull out a small magnifier, examining various points of interest on the corpse.

“Just like the others, then,” the chief sighed. Catching Karkat's questioning look, he explained further. “Our serial killer seems to pick his targets at random, but every death follows the same pattern. The victim is apparently lured to a secluded but public place, where they're beaten to death by a blunt object without resisting. After they're dead, the murderer takes whatever they had in their strife specibus and mars their corpse with it, then burns the shape of a petal into their skin.”

“Were they drugged?”

“Nothing ever turns up in the bloodstream. One of the victims was drunk, but not enough to explain their lack of response. They can't be unconscious during the beatings, because they were all standing up judging by the placement and angle of the blows. Not to mention the anguished expression on their faces.”

“Perhaps an accomplice holds them still.”

“There are no marks to show they were restrained in any way.”

“Mind control?”

“We considered that, but a couple of victims were known for their high mental resistance.”

“Telekinesis?”

“On a living person, for that long? The longest record for holding a resisting foe is... um...”

“One minute and 25 seconds,” the detective said absently.

“Yes, thank you. And that's by a person with psychic amplifications!”

Karkat realized he was checking the blades under his sleeves and stopped, shoving his hands in his pockets in irritation. “And there's no connection between the victims?”

“None that we can identify. The previous ones were all trolls, ranging from all over the hemospectrum. Some were good friends with a variety of species, others kept mostly to their own kind. We thought perhaps these were troll hate-crimes, but now even that line of reasoning is gone. Maybe there's no link between them after all.”

“They're not random,” John butted in, not even looking up.

“Did you figure out the connection?” Sleuth asked, perking up.

“No... not yet. But they can't have been targeted by chance, not when you look at the warning the killer leaves behind.”

“Why, what does the petal mean?” Karkat interjected.

“I don't know that yet, either. I was referring to the use of their weapons.” He clicked the magnifying lens back into its case and stood, turning to face them. “The killer always makes a point to use his or her victims' signature armaments against them. It's not just for his sick pleasure, it's a message; 'You did this to yourself.' The petal is either a signature, or a symbol representing what they did to gain the murderer's ire. If we only knew what that was, we might be able to predict the perp's next target and stop him.”

“But what do we look for?” came the glum response from PS. “It could be as little as an off-hand, overheard comment.”

“Then let's interview someone who was with our victim just before her death,” John said briskly as he rejoined them. “It appears Miss Greene was an avid fan of Rainbow Drinkers. There are fang marks in various states of healing on her neck, including one that has only just scabbed over.”

“What?” came the meek complaint from one of the police investigators who'd been listening in; Nervous Broad, Pickle's wife. “I examined the body already, but I didn't see any such marks.”

“A considerate and experienced vampire can leave almost no trace of their fangs. And since the wound is fresh enough to have been received late this morning, it must be from the diurnal, troll variety. I know of only one such person residing in Can City.” As the scrawny form strode for the cars, already whipping out a phone and texting away, Karkat felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. Sleuth snapped out orders to the clean-up crew to finish up before the two of them followed behind, the troll dragging his feet.

He had no doubt who Detective Egbert was contacting, and it made him scowl. He'd been looking forward to seeing Kanaya again in person after so long. This was _not_ the circumstance he'd wanted the meeting to be about.

* * *

“Oh my goodness! Karkat, you did not tell me that you were coming back to Can City!” The elegant lady troll had just stepped into the police station, tracks of jade-colored tears smeared with mascara running down her white, glowing cheeks. She quickly scooped him up in an embrace, pulling away to dab at her face. She studied him for a brief moment, then choked out a small laugh. “You're all mismatched, my dear.”

“So I've heard,” Karkat grumbled, glancing over at John. The human's eyebrows had risen upon viewing their greeting.

“Well well, when I figured you had a fashionable friend, I didn't know it was _the_ lady of fashion. See, we've discovered more mutual acquaintances already.”

“She's not just an acquaintance for me, asshole. She's my moirail,” he corrected with an edge to his voice.

John merely smiled, but his eyes had gone cold again. “Well, let's hope she's not involved, then!” Without further ado, he led them all to one of the interrogation rooms.

“I just cannot believe she's dead,” Ms. Maryam said as she took a seat, her eyes moistening again. “I saw her not three hours ago for brunch. She has been a good friend of mine for over a year now. A good donor, too. Not everyone who's willing to fill that role has realistic expectations. They assume a romantic relationship will go with it, and get horribly jealous of my other donors.”

Karkat nodded from where he was leaning against the wall in the corner of the room. He'd heard all these complaints before, being her moirail. Kanaya already had a matesprit and business partner in fashion, some human woman named Rose Lalonde. They only had eyes for each other, but Kanaya couldn't possibly survive on the blood of a single person, not without killing them. Fortunately, her matesprit was a very understanding person.

“Where did you and Miss Greene meet at, today?” John began.

“There's a classy diner about halfway between my place and hers; it's where we usually go. We get a private booth, I treat her to a meal, and then she does the same.”

“Were there any other customers at that time?”

“Only a few, it's pretty quiet before the lunch crowd comes. No one was paying any attention to us, I'm certain. I hate being watched by strangers when I eat.”

“I see. Have you ever noticed anyone staring at Miss Greene, or following her? Has she ever complained about such?”

“No, never. By all accounts she led a perfectly ordinary life, apart from my place in it.”

“Tell me about her. What kind of friends did she have, where did she spend her days, anything.”

“Well... she attended evening classes at Can Tech, where she was studying Programming. She has—had... many friends, both troll and human, though she always turned down advances for more concupiscent relationships. She wanted to avoid such entanglements until she had secured a job, in case she had to move to a different city.”

“And did her would-be suitors take that well?”

“I never heard of anyone asking more than once. They seemed content to wait, since she was supposed to graduate soon. Oh... her graduation...” Kanaya trailed off, and looked like she was going to tear up again. “She already gave me an invitation. She was so excited.”

It took a great deal of self-control for Karkat not to walk over and try to comfort her. He had a feeling that would be frowned upon during a questioning.

John leaned forward in his seat across the table, resting his lips against his steepled fingers. “Have you ever, in all the time that you knew her, felt that she was hiding something? Keeping secrets? Doing anything that might get her in trouble?”

“Not at all! She was a very open and honest girl, with a strong moral compass. She told me at our first dinner date, with innocent excitement, that being a rainbow drinker's donor was the most audacious thing she'd ever done.”

“But that was some time ago. You said you've known her for over a year.”

“Well... yes. But I do not believe that she has changed since that time.”

“Hmm.” John pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, drew something on it, and passed it to her. “Does this symbol mean anything to you?”

Kanaya picked it up daintily and examined it, turning it this way and that. “A very fat teardrop? A flower petal? Perhaps a leaf? I'm afraid I don't understand its significance.”

“It was worth a shot,” he sighed, yoinking the paper back. “So, where did _you_ go after brunch?”

“I returned to my home office to work on concept drawings for my next fashion line.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“No, most of Rose's psychiatric patients meet her during the day, so I was alone.”

“I see. Tell me, Ms. Maryam, do you use any powers on Miss Greene when you feed?”

She blinked, then stared at him in polite disbelief. Karkat growled quietly in the corner. “John, surely you're not suspecting _me_.” He stared calmly back, and her expression slowly twisted into one of cold condemnation. “No, never mind. That was a foolish question. I merely forgot who I was dealing with for a moment. To answer your question, _Detective Egbert_ , I do inject a mild anesthetic through my fangs to make the experience more pleasant for all my donors. None have ever had an adverse reaction to the venom, and the effects are quite localized. I do not use any kind of euphoric effect, be it chemical or hypnotic in nature, on anyone but my matesprit, and even then only when she wishes.”

“I see.” John leaned back in his chair, stretching his hands behind his head. “You won't mind if the police perform a search of your loft, will you?”

The room temperature seemed to drop under the chill of her pale yellow glare. “If it will put your mind at ease, then get it over with.”

“Excellent!” he said cheerfully, already texting PS on his phone. “I'd hate to have to arrest a friend,” he continued, and Karkat couldn't tell if he meant that or was actually delighted by the concept, “but the sooner we get the possibility out of the way, the better. Much better than lingering suspicions, don't you think?”

“Perhaps. Don't expect a warm welcome for a while, though.”

“I figured as much. Oh well, my arrangements with Rose always come with too much psychoanalyzing, anyway.” He stood abruptly, rubbing his hands and striding confidently to the door. “I suspect the police will want you to fill out a statement or whatever tedious paperwork they need. Thank you for your patience, Ms. Maryam, it was good to see you. I'm afraid I'll be occupying your moirail's time for a while yet, though. Come, Karkat! We have work to do!”

“What?” the troll griped, giving one last nod to Kanaya. “I'm your bodyguard, not your lackey.”

“You're still an FBI agent, and this is a murder case! As long as you're stuck being my shadow, I would be grateful for any fresh insight you can provide--” and then the door shut, and Kanaya could hear no more.

* * *

“So,” Problem Sleuth asked as he sidled up beside them. “Have you figured anything out?”

“Nothing beyond the obvious. Our perpetrator is extremely clever and cautious, yet also strong and violently brutal. He or she must scout out his locations ahead of time, in order to know exactly where and when he won't be seen. He always nabs his victims when they're out of their homes, thus avoiding the problems of nosy neighbors and the difficulties of breaking and entering. The victims quietly go to the places he picks, seemingly of their own volition, so the murderer is either convincingly trustworthy or a very smooth talker. It's most likely a troll; at least one of the victims was a human-hater and would never have gone anywhere with one. But what I can't understand is how he gets his victims to stand still while they're being killed! It can't be simple mind control, but it's not drugs either, much less restraints. And what is it that links the victims together?” John scrubbed his hands back and forth through his hair in frustration. “Bluuuh! I need more information! Sleuth, will you make me a copy of the files for the other victims?”

“Already done,” he replied, handing over a manila envelope full of folders. “Let me know as soon as you get a lead.”

“Sure, sure,” the detective said offhandedly, earning a frown from his uncle.

“I mean it, John. This criminal is incredibly dangerous. I wouldn't even be letting you work on this alone if not for the fact that you already have a bodyguard. You should be grateful for all this election mess if only for that.”

“Mm-hmm.” John scanned over the pages in the first folder, absorbed.

“Speaking of the election... how's, uh... how's WV these days? You two still hanging out on occasion?”

Blue eyes froze in their studies, then ever-so-slowly rose up to pin the chief's. “Uncle.”

“Nephew.”

“I believe I've already made my stance on the political situation clear.”

“See, now, that's what I just don't understand! You're good friends with WV, sort of. As much as you have friends, anyway. You approve of the job he's done with this city! Why won't you lend a hand with his and PM's re-election, say a good word here and there?”

“Because I don't want to. They don't need my help, anyway, and I'd rather not tarnish their campaign with my own dubious popularity.”

“Oh, come on, the public loves you!”

“And I could care less. Now, if you'll excuse me, _Police Chief_ , I have a serial murder case to investigate.” He sidestepped smoothly and strode toward the front entrance, irritation evident in every step while Karkat scurried to keep up with him on his shorter legs. Sleuth watched them go with a sigh.

He worried about that kid. He worried about him a lot.

* * *

“So. I guess you're probably mad at me for grilling your moirail.”

A glare was all the detective received in answer. The two of them were walking under the shady trees lining the paths through Can Tech, on their way to question more of Miss Greene's peers. The taxi ride there had been noticeably more chilly than the trip to the crime scene.

“I'm sure the search won't find anything. Kanaya is far too clever to leave incriminating evidence laying around. Assuming she has any.”

Glaaaaaaare.

“Quite clever. Very strong, too. And a rainbow drinker's thrall could easily enchant a person into being led down a secluded alleyway. Maybe even numb the sense of pain enough that they don't try to break free when under attack.”

A huff, and Karkat shook his head. “If you're trying to bait me into flipping my shit, you might as well stop. Kanaya's _not_ a murderer. But if she was, well... then she deserves to be caught.”

Silence from the detective. The troll looked up, taking in the peculiar expression on his face. “What.”

“You think so?”

“Of course.”

“But she's your best friend.”

“No, she's my moirail. And as such, her behavior is partially my responsibility. If she's really been killing innocent people, then I've failed spectacularly and half the burden is mine. The least I can do to atone is put a stop to this and help bring her to justice.”

John stopped walking, staring at him with wide eyes. One again Karkat was struck by how youthful he appeared when his face wasn't contorted with condescension or bland studiousness. In fact, the color flooding his fair-skinned cheeks made it almost attractive.

“You really believe that?” the human asked uncertainly.

“I'm not a liar and I don't keep secrets. If I said it, you can bet it's the truth,” he replied firmly, stopping in front of him and meeting his gaze head on.

Blue eyes wavered between skepticism and something else. “Everyone has secrets.”

“I have human-colored blood.”

“I...what?” Now he looked completely confused, and Karkat couldn't help feeling a touch of vindictive pleasure. He suspected it was a rare expression to see on Egbert's face.

“It's not impossible. I bleed candy red, just like you; a mutation for a troll. _That's_ my secret, or it used to be. I once lived in paralyzing fear that it would be discovered, and it was the worst feeling in the world. So now, I never hold anything back, no matter what trouble it might get me in. You got a problem with that? Then tough luck, fuckass! Yes, of course I'm upset that Kanaya is a suspect! The very thought sickens me! But that's life, and I'd rather prove her innocence properly than turn my face from the truth if it's ugly!”

The way the silence roared in his ears after he finished his outburst made Karkat realize he'd been shouting. For a moment John was staring at him with the white-rimmed eyes of a scolded child, before he shook his head and grinned shyly instead.

“You...you're something else, Karkat. I mean, um. Can I call you Karkat? You can call me John...”

“Whatever. I'll call you what I feel like calling you.”

“Okay, Karkat!” He was grinning broadly again, and it would have been annoying if it wasn't so much better then the alternative. “Actually, I'm really hoping that Kanaya is innocent, too.”

Absurdly, the confession made Karkat feel a little better. They continued their stroll across the dappled campus sidewalks in silence, but it was much more companionable this time.

* * *

Evening was painting the sky with pinks and oranges by the time John decided this would be the last interview for the day. By that point, Karkat was hungry, thirsty, and surlier than usual. For a man with no people skills, the detective did a remarkable job of faking them when the need arose. Without a hint of the boredom and impatience he _had_ to be feeling, he endured the same shocked surprise and fits of grief from each person, since the news of Miss Greene's death hadn't got around yet. He convincingly pretended sympathy for her closest friends, directing the conversation into more productive avenues of mourning. For her teachers he put on the mask of a world-weary, but still caring, voice of authority. For the few people they came across who never got along with her, or didn't want to talk to them, John became contrary; spouting out lies that they corrected out of spite. Watching the human at work almost made up for the mind-numbing repetition of it all.

“Why _her?_ ” the human they were finishing up with asked for the tenth time. His name was Greg something-or-other, and he was one of the two or three people they'd talked to who were most tore up by the news. “She didn't deserve this. She was an angel! Razel and I would have broke up a hundred times over if it wasn't for Cynthia.” Karkat cast his mind back to a dozen interviews ago. Razel was a pretty little thing with three-pronged horns. She'd been another one of Greene's most heartbroken friends.

“It's hard, you know, dating a different species,” Greg continued. “It's all too easy to do or say something wrong. But every time we were on the rocks, 'Thia would coax Raz into talking to me again, and we'd patch things up. We've been going out for two years now, thanks to her. Why would anyone kill such a caring girl? It just isn't fair...”

Karkat nodded sagely, his irritation at the human's tears temporarily overridden by understanding. It was tough to lose a person like that. He hoped Razel and Greg's relationship had reached a steady plateau. It would be a shame for Miss Greene's contribution to go to waste, and it would probably be a long time before they found another person to fill the hole she left in their hearts.

“Have you ever heard her arguing with anyone?” John asked half-heartedly, holding his glasses with one hand while the other pinched the bridge of his nose. Greg seemed to take the gesture as one of sorrow, but Karkat was pretty sure it was just frustration and exhaustion.

“Not really, man. She was so easy-going, even though she had a strong will. No one could talk her out of moving off campus when she couldn't afford it anymore, and she refused to take charity from anyone. She got into political debates sometimes; the new troll party vs the carapaces, that sort of thing, but she didn't have a bad word for either of them. Wait. Actually, there was that one time. She really chewed out some timid freshmen who were putting up posters for Mobster Kingpin and Lord English. She said the fear-tactics they practiced had no place in Can City and tore them all down.”

John perked up, putting his glasses back on. Karkat pricked his ears as well. It was the first time this story had come up after hours of inquiry. “Really? I hadn't heard about that yet.”

“We were walking back from a class together; I was the only one who saw it. That happened a couple weeks ago, though.” Greg's eyes grew wider as his voice grew quieter. “You don't think... _the mobs_ had something to do with her death, do you?”

“I don't think anything for certain at this point. But it's certainly worth looking into. Do you remember who those freshmen were?”

“Um, yeah. Cynthia actually talked to them a couple of times after that, trying to teach them to stand up for themselves. I don't remember their room number, but I know what dorm they're in.” He pulled out a sheet of paper and scribbled something down before handing it over.

“Thank you, Greg, you've been very helpful. I promise you I'll get to the bottom of this, one way or another.”

“Oh, no, thank _you_ Detective Egbert,” the man stuttered as he rose to his feet and shook his hand. “Um, good luck. And be careful.”

“I shall do my best,” he said in parting. The spring in his step had returned, Karkat observed as they walked away.

“I thought he was going to be the last one tonight,” the troll grumbled half-heartedly.

“Come now, we can't stop when we've finally got a possible lead. Two more people won't hurt!” John's tired eyes had somehow found the energy to glow with renewed vigor. “As long as we're here we should check it out!”

Karkat let out a long, overdrawn sigh before shaking his head in mild amusement. John grinned happily and picked up the pace, leading them to the dormitory in no time. It wasn't one they'd been to already, hunting down Miss Greene's compatriots. They stepped inside the first set of double doors and John immediately approached the directory beside the phone, scanning down the list for the names he'd been given.

They were there...but they'd been crossed out. Frowning, John knocked on the inner doors and flashed a badge at the student working the front desk. She stared at him blankly for a second before pressing a button, unlocking the doors.

“Was that a police badge?” Karkat asked in surprise.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. I pick Sleuth's pockets whenever he's being especially annoying. I'll give it back next time. I love the look on his face when he realizes he missed me doing it _again_.”

Stifling a chuckle, the troll followed him inside. The girl stared at them somewhat nervously as John leaned against the desk and passed over the piece of paper. “I'm looking for these two. Can you tell me where I can find them?”

She popped a bubble of chewing gum as she read the scrawl. “Oh, Tim and Reggie? Yeah, they moved away last week. Like, to a whole 'nother city. Apparently they were having trouble with bullies or something, and decided to start over somewhere else. They didn't leave a forwarding address for their mail, neither.”

“Either.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Thank you Miss, that will be all.” Good mood gone, John spun on his heel and stalked out, leaving Karkat to soothe ruffled feathers and provide explanations. When the troll rejoined him a few moments later, he too had lost whatever good humor the lead had brought them.

“Well. That was pointless.”

“I suppose a proper police request might get their transfer information out of the school records, but I doubt the kids would be very forthcoming anyway. All I really need to know is if either the Felt or the Midnight Crew knew of Miss Greene's existence.” He smiled grimly. “Perhaps I should just ask them in person?”

“That sounds like a _horrible_ idea. They're already after you for political reasons, the last thing you want is for them to know you're investigating them for murder, too.”

“Ah, but we have one of them in custody, remember? I got Biscuits with a sledgehammer the other day. He might not know anything, but if he _does_ he'd be too stupid to keep quiet about it.”

“I don't suppose that can wait until tomorrow?” the troll growled.

John laughed. “That was my intention. Nothing wears me out quite like talking to people face-to-face. I much prefer to text. Speaking of which.” He pulled out his phone and began typing away. The soft sound of tapping filled their exhausted silence as they plodded back across the campus. The pink tinge of the setting sun had almost completely given away to the dark of night, and the lamps illuminating the pathways had long since flickered on. Here and there, groups of students walked to their night classes, laughing amongst each other or quietly discussing points of interest. It was nearing the end of the day for most humans, and the start of the night for most trolls.

With a pleased sigh, John slipped his phone back in his vest pocket's captchalogue. “We're in luck. Looks like we get to rest tonight.” He smiled at Karkat's questioning brow. “Jade is up for company.”

 _Oh yes, his sleeping neurosis_ , Karkat recalled as the detective hailed a taxi. According to the information the FBI had acquired, John Egbert never slept alone. His three childhood friends, the ones whose guardians had died under the same dark circumstances, took turns sharing their beds with him. There was nothing sexual going on as far the report claimed, and in fact the scrawny man avoided such relations like the plague. He simply couldn't fall asleep without the embrace and warmth of someone he trusted. Just another of his problems stemming from Egbert Sr.'s violent end.

They clambered into the back of the vehicle, John offhandedly giving the driver an address before slouching his long form into the furthest seat. “So. Anything I should know about this Jade person?” Karkat asked as he fastened himself in on the other side.

“She's a scientist. Well respected by the populace. Studies all sorts of things, most notably sleep and dreams. That's why I can almost always count on her letting me come over, provided I'm in the mood to wake up covered in wires and sensors. I try not to hit up any of my friends more than twice a week, and never the same days in a row. Don't want to wear out my welcome, especially since they all have matesprits now.”

“ _Oh_ , so that's what Kanaya was talking about. Lalonde is one of your bedfellows, isn't she? Guess you'll be in the doghouse with her for a while, huh.”

“Yup.”

They were silent for a few streets, watching the hypnotic display of passing lanterns. “Wait,” Karkat resumed slowly. “You said matesprits. Are they _all_ dating trolls?”

“Yeah. Do you know a guy named Tavros Nitram?”

“Fuck yeah I do! I grew up with him.”

John grinned. “He and Jade have been dating for a while now, though not as long as Rose and Kanaya.”

“Huh. Small world.”

“And Dave...” his grin turned wickedly mischievous. “You're going to _hate_ Dave.”

“...why?”

The grin stretched even wider. “He just started dating Terezi.”

Karkat scowled. “You're right. I loathe the shit-eating nooksucker already.”

John laughed, turning to look out the window again. His mirthful expression faded into a frown, however, as he finally registered what streets they were following. “Hey, driver!” he yelled, leaning forward to knock on the glass separating them. “You're heading the wrong direction...” He trailed off, eyes narrowing. “But you knew that already, didn't you.”

The driver was clutching the wheel tightly, his head hunched down into his shoulders. “P-please, Mister, I'll take you there eventually, free of charge. Before that, though, there's somewhere else you need to be.”

“Oh, do I?” John sneered, leaning back into his seat with a huff. “Shouldn't you have phrased it 'somewhere else I need to take you?'”

The white carapace tried to hunch over his wheel even more, but said nothing. John crossed his arms and met Karkat's sidelong glance. “I hope I haven't worn you out too much today. Looks like your services are going to be needed even sooner then I expected.”

The agent nodded grimly, checking on the knives up his sleeves. His red blood was pumping vigorously through his veins, washing away the fatigue. Whoever they were about to meet, Karkat was certain they wouldn't take too kindly to rejection.

* * *

The park they were delivered to was not the one that a murdered troll had been found in, but it still evoked the same feeling that someone could be killed here and no one would see it. Pointless decorative columns lined the winding paths, and there were enough trees and giant bushes to keep an army hidden. As the detective and his bodyguard stepped out of the taxi and it hastily drove away to a safe distance, three figures materialized from the shadows. Green torsos, to be precise.

“Ah. The Felt again, I see,” John said loudly, his voice cool with disdain. Karkat watched the forms with unblinking eyes, sizing up the opponents he would have to deal with. Two of them were large goons with striped hats; Eggs and Sawbuck. Fuck. In between them and a few steps ahead stood the one who was clearly in charge of this meeting. Tiny, three-foot-tall Clover. Karkat heard John scoff, but the agent felt no such relief. He had intimate knowledge of how the Felt operated. He knew who else would make an appearance when things went sour.

“Detective Egbert!” announced the squeaky voice. “Just my luck that you should show up!”

“Really? The last guy who ran into me didn't feel so lucky.”

“Yes, well, my apologies for that. Biscuits isn't the most accurate clock in the shop, and he really shouldn't have gone off on his own like that. He's not much of a talker, and we have things to discuss!”

“We do, don't we?” John replied with half-lidded eyes, a little smile tugging at his lips. Clover blinked in surprise, but seemed to brush off the human's unexpected amenability as the product of his usual good fortune.

“It's very simple! I know you love solving puzzles as much as I love handing out riddles. All we want you to do is solve a few puzzles for _us_.”

“Such as?”

“Your specialty. We point you to a person, and you divine the darkest, most exploitable secrets of their hearts.”

“ _Ah_. And then I give that information to _you_ , and you hold it against them. Good old-fashioned blackmail. So that's how Lord English and Doc Scratch plan to win this election.”

“You can't deny its effectiveness!”

“But what do _I_ get out of the arrangement?”

“Well...you don't get your clock cleaned by my compatriots here...”

“No no no, that's no way to treat a _business partner_. Which is what I would be, if I helped you. If I'm not profiting from the situation, what's to keep me from divining _your_ secrets and, oh say...giving them to the Midnight Crew?”

Clover scowled. “Don't tell me you're already working for them!”

“You're in luck. I haven't yet had the pleasure of hearing their offer. Now, back to the issue at hand. How about we make a very simple deal to start things rolling between us?”

Clover fidgeted his spindly limbs. “Let's hear it.”

“You answer a question for me, honestly and completely, and I will consider your offer, right here and now.”

Karkat didn't twitch so much as a muscle, but mentally he was groaning and pulling his hair out. Yes, John was seriously going through with his earlier half-in-jest suggestion. Clover danced nervously about, looking to his companions for support, but neither of them were much help in the brains department.

“Fine. Sure.”

“It's a deal, then?”

“Deal.”

“Good.” John crossed his arms and looked sternly down his nose at the diminutive carapace. “What does the Felt have to do with the recent serial murders of Mossa Volantis, Ramnir Lepôr, Aven Scree and Cynthia Greene?”

“Oh, that,” Clover said with relief. “Nothing. Those aren't ours.”

“You're certain?”

“Absolutely. Never even heard of them before they made the news with their corpses. I swear on my amazingly good luck!”

“I see.”

“Yup. So, uh. About your part of the bargain...”

“Right, right.” John stroked his chin and closed his eyes, looking for all the world like the picture of pure concentration. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He made soft humming noises. He ticked points off on his fingers. Karkat hid his hands behind his back, ever so quietly slipping the blades out from his sleeves and into his grasp. A quick tap on his strife specibus and they transformed into twin sickles.

“After giving the matter due consideration, I'm afraid my answer is still 'no!'” John concluded with a humorless smile, a heavy mallet appearing in his hands. In one movement the two of them attacked; Karkat throwing the circular blade at the ringleader, John leaping forward on his long legs and bashing Eggs across the head.

It was useless, of course. In an amazing stroke of luck, the spinning sickle managed to rotate around Clover's neck without touching it. Eggs had already used his eggtimer to multiply himself exponentially, sacrificing one of his less stable time-loop selves to the blow. Leaping back, John rose his weapon again to strike at the approaching Sawbuck.

“Don't!” Karkat snarled sharply, and John hesitated. “Whatever you do, don't hurt Number 10, and don't let him hurt you! Who knows where in time we'll end up.”

“Great,” the detective groaned as they both gave up ground to the advancing two-man army. “What am I supposed to do, then?”

“That depends on—oh, _fuck_ , there he goes. Run!”

Almost unnoticed behind the burly green-torso swarm, Clover had scampered to the side and pulled out a silver coin. With a flick it went glittering skyward, slowed, and fell to the ground. Karkat knew exactly what numbers would be on the coin: a four and a fourteen. If the little carapace had managed to flip his own number, he would have died on the spot, but there was no chance of _that_ happening. Sure enough, as the clink of metal on concrete rang through the cooling night air, Clover vanished, swapped in time and space with his coin-mate. Quarters was just as big and burly as the other two henchmen, but with one major difference. Namely, a gleaming mass of insta-death known as a mini-gun. Which he was now pointing in their direction.

“ _Oh!_ ” John breathed, and then they were indeed running like mad. The thunderous sound of heavy artillery shattered the silence as bullets zinged across the park, followed by the racket of exploding bark and plaster columns. Sawbuck shuffled to a safe distance and a couple copies of Eggs keeled over as the line of fire trailed after its moving target.

“There!” Karkat huffed, pointing to a massive rock a few feet ahead. It was another one of those pointless park decorations, but at least it could withstand a few minutes of bullet-spray. The two dived for cover behind it, drawing up their limbs tightly as they crouched in its shadow. The rock trembled with vibrations as it absorbed the beating, chunks falling off the front in droves.

“Now what?” John shouted over the din. Karkat pulled out a small mirror on a telescoping rod, angling it out to get a view of the scene. It was difficult to make anything out in the dark, and the mirror shattered after only a few seconds, but it was enough to tell that Quarters was advancing towards them.

“So just how good of a pickpocket are you?” Karkat shouted back.

“What? I'm awesome at it! Why?”

“I have a plan, but you're not going to like it!”

“Does it involve getting killed?”

“No!”

“Then I'm all for it! Lay it on me!”

Karkat laid the plan out for him.

“You're right! I hate this plan!”

“You got a better one?”

“No!”

“Then shut the fuck up!”

“Why am _I_ the one doing all the work?”

“Because _I'm_ the one drawing all the bullets! Now hunker down and wait for your chance!” he shouted in parting before taking a mad roll out into the open. John had to give the troll credit; he was _fast_. As Karkat darted and dived between patches of trees and bushes, a trail of erupting dirt followed but never quite caught up with him. In the dark it would be hard for the three goons to tell it was the wrong target, or even that it wasn't both of them. Now that his stone shield was no longer shaking, John dared to crouch low and peek out around a side.

Quarters was moving steadily towards him down the path, his attention on the elusive figure ahead. Karkat probably would have been much safer if he ran to the side instead of that direction, but the plan revolved around the Felt member walking past the rock John was hiding behind. Eggs and Sawbuck looked to be splitting up; circling wide as they ran ahead in hopes of cutting off the troll's escape. At least it meant they wouldn't be looking his direction when he made his move. Although, as loud as the mini-gun was, it was unlikely that they could shout a warning.

As the painfully deafening racket came closer, John inched around the rock, trying to keep it between him and Quarter's view as he plodded by. Success! Steeling his nerves, John tensed his spidery limbs and peeked over the rock from his new vantage point. Quarters was completely absorbed with trying to gun down the evasive troll, his unguarded back exposed. John was tempted to just crack him in the head with his mallet, but carapaces were highly resistant to bludgeoning damage. None of his attacks had ever managed to kill one.

Sweating with nervousness and gritting his teeth, the detective left his cover and slipped in step behind him. Shell casings littered his path, making the undertaking even more treacherously difficult. Blue eyes wide, John lifted his hands, forcing them to be steady. He would have to reach around the giant to slip his fingers into the front pocket of his cushy suit coat. And that meant stretching his arm underneath that recoiling, sizzling hot weapon. No point in wasting time checking the pockets on the easy side. Quarters was obviously right-handed.

A nervous glance at Karkat steeled his resolve. His bodyguard couldn't dodge the slugs forever! Taking a deep breath, he stepped in as close as possible and reached around the green torso. With the lightest of touches he located the pocket flap and slipped his long, pianist's fingers into the pouch. The sensation of cool metal coins made his heart race with victory. Like a true magician he palmed the lot and retracted his sticky-fingers unnoticed.

He slipped on a couple of shells as he scrambled back to his cover, but Quarters couldn't hear it over his own noise. Collapsing against the rock in a pile of stone chips and powder, John examined his prize. Seven unusual quarters looked up at him, the eighth still on the ground a good sprint away. Quickly and carefully the detective sorted through them— _Whatever you do, don't drop them!_ Karkat had warned—looking for the ones the troll had specified.

There they were! One with a 7 and 10 and one with a 2 and 12. John carefully tucked the rest into a coin purse and pocketed them, then climbed on top of the massive stone. He could see Sawbuck and Eggs coming up dangerously close on Karkat's position, some distance away. The coins would need to land near them to work.

“Here goes nothing,” the human muttered, winding up like a pitcher.

Toss! Two tiny objects arced high over the park, catching every glint of light as they spun end over end. John held his breath as he watched them fly, mostly straight and reasonably true, until they landed with an unheard clatter in the troll's general location. John was not a superstitious man, but he still crossed his fingers. For all his hard work, there was still a strong element of chance in play.

A hit and a miss! Though at least a dozen Eggs' were still about to surround his bodyguard, Sawbuck's approaching girth suddenly glowed and disappeared, replaced by a bewildered Crowbar, his namesake weapon clutched in hand.

Karkat didn't waste a second. Leaping forward with a sickle swinging, he sliced across the carapace's spindly hands, disarming him and claiming the red iron for himself. Crowbar barely had the sense to leap away as the inevitable line of bullet-fire followed its target. The troll was already gone, however, plowing into the crowd of purple-and-white hats and reducing them all to one with a single, well placed strike on an eggtimer. Eggs beat a hasty retreat as the mini-gun turned his way as well.

Watching the troll narrowly miss becoming swiss cheese again and again was driving John mad with anxiety. There was no way Karkat could get close enough to Quarters to take him out when he was under fire like that. It was time to switch places! Sliding down off the rock, the detective grabbed one of the broken-off shards from the ground and lobbed it at the gun-crazy maniac. It whacked him across the back, and his head turned instinctively to see what was the cause.

John stuck out his tongue and waggled his fingers in his ears before diving back around the stone for cover. A moment later and hot lead was pounding into its surface once more, this time marring the opposite side. It occurred to John, belatedly, that Quarters was a lot closer to him then he was to Karkat. What if the troll didn't make it in time?

WHACK!

The sudden silence that filled the air was almost as deafening as the gunfire had been. Peeking apprehensively around his cover, Egbert witnessed the most gratifying sight he'd seen in years. Reflecting in the dim light hovered a pair of glowing orange eyes, narrowed in the vicious pleasure of triumph. Quarters shook his heavy mass of artillery in confusion, unable to figure out how it had run out of ammo when its supply was infinite. He looked around and spotted Karkat, still frozen at the end of his swing, Crowbar's crowbar of temporal negation gripped firmly within his gray, clawed fingers. Comprehension blossomed across his face like a particularly dim-witted flower. A second later and the troll slammed the iron upwards into that massive jaw, toppling the Felt thug backwards into an unconscious heap on the ground.

“Take _that_ , you nooksniffing asswipe! I would wish you a brain injury, but firing that fucking thing all over the place must have caused your thinkpan to melt out your auricular sponge clots years ago! I hope you wake up in a jail cell with a lecherous skeeze who's even bigger and burlier than you, you festering pile of grub-vomit! Go take that mini-gun of yours and shove it up your—aw...” he trailed off in disappointment as the body glowed and vanished. John and Karkat spun around to witness Crowbar scoop up the just-summoned Clover princess-style, his bloody hands clutching three recovered coins. Eggs was already high-tailing it away, and the other two quickly followed.

“Fucking snakes,” Karkat growled, whipping his gun out from the holster hidden under his coat. Predictably, though, firing anywhere in the direction of Clover caused his usually crack-shot aim to miss horribly. Not that a handgun would have hurt them much, anyway. He scowled as they beat a hasty retreat out of the park and into the dark alleyways nearby. The sound of sirens could be heard distantly approaching, but by the time the police arrived the Felt would be long gone.

Karkat turned to face his charge with a sigh, a grudging apology already on his lips. His voice died, however, when he looked up and saw the expression on John's face. It was a smile of unadulterated, hyperactive, dazzlingly brilliant joy.

“That. Was. _Amazing!_ Oh my gog, Karkat, no wonder you're in the FBI! I've never seen _anyone_ fight like that! The way you dodged all that gunfire _and_ avoided all those copy thugs—oh, not to mention your _plan_ —you were right, he _was_ carrying all those coins! And then, that crowbar, is that what I think it is? Uncle will have a field day—no, _Jade_ will have a field day, studying it! And then! You took out that ape in _one hit!_ Ohmygog! You're so awesome!” Words finally failing him, the normally cold and distant detective pounced on the agent with an enthusiastic hug.

“Whoa, get the fuck off!” Karkat huffed, face turning a brilliant red. He was _not_ used to that kind of affection. “Give yourself a little credit, at least; that slight-of-hand trick you pulled is what really won us the battle.”

“Oh, don't be so shy, Karkles!”

 _Karkles?! Dammit, Terezi!_

“You were the action hero! That was the biggest display of mangrit I've ever seen! You are the best bodyguard ever! It's you!”

“Okay, I get it, just...put me down already. That's more shout poles then I can take in one sitting.”

“Heh heh heh!” he giggled, dropping the troll's feet back on the ground. The flash of blue and red lights was beginning to play across the park's battered decorations, and neither of them were particularly keen on the idea of being witnessed in their goofy antics.

As they walked companionably toward the approaching cop cars, John peered down the road for the taxi that brought them. The timid driver had long since vanished, of course. Not to matter, Sleuth would be amenable to playing chauffeur after an incident like this. Although not until after the two of them had explained themselves hoarse.

* * *

“Goodness, John, I was expecting you hours ago,” Jade exclaimed as she opened the door, a robe wrapped around her pajama-clad form. “What took you so—what happened? You're a mess! Oh, who's this?”

“Jade, allow me to introduce you to my _amazing_ bodyguard, Karkat Vantas,” John said in a pleased but exhausted voice. “He's from the FBI! Also, he grew up here in Can City. I would love to tell you all about him, but it's been a long day. A _reeeaaaally_ long day. Oh look, there's the lab room. It's still full of beds, right?”

“Yeah, for now—whoa!” Jade yelped as she was tugged by the arm in that direction, John already kicking off his shoes and peeling off his vest. Karkat followed gamely behind, eyebrows as high as they could go. The sound of wheels caught his attention as another troll appeared from down a corridor, the wide hallway providing plenty of room for his massive horns and customized wheelchair. And if that wasn't enough to identify him on sight, the newcomer also sported an enormous pair of gossamer wings, unique to all of trollkind. Tavros Nitram may have had a harder time than most getting around indoors, but out in the open he could move more freely than anyone.

“Karkat?” Tavros exclaimed in surprise. “When did you come back to Can City? It's, uh, good to see you, man!” He held out a hand and the two clasped wrists warmly.

“You too. I just got in this morning, for a job. Keeping that trouble-maker alive,” he explained with a toss of his head to the lab room.

“Jegus, John, change into this at least! You're covered in—what is that, chalk?” Jade's voice drifted through the open doorway, sounding exasperated. A moment later and she appeared again, waving around a plain white robe resembling a hospital gown. There was some half-hearted grumbling and then the rustle of clothes.

“I, uh, feel your pain. You look like you've seen some action already.”

“No kidding. So, what is this place?”

“Harley Research. It's where Jade and I, uh, well, mostly Jade, study all sorts of things. Our personal rooms are down that way,” he gestured down the corridor he'd come from, “but John never goes down there. He tries to be, uh, considerate, so I try to be understanding.”

“I see. That can't be easy.”

“Kanaya and I, and I guess, uh, Terezi now, like to call ourselves the Cold Covers Club. Oh, uh, maybe I shouldn't have mentioned Terezi?” he asked, ears drooping.

“It's okay, I already heard about it,” Karkat cut in quickly. They moved closer to the lab doorway, revealing the walls of electronic gadgets and hospital-like wires and monitors.

“Goodness, John, when was the last time you slept?” Jade remarked as she was dragged once more to one of the wider beds, barely having enough time to pull back the covers before John wrapped around her like a tangle buddy and toppled them both onto the mattress. Tavros rolled into the room and tucked them in, leaning forward enough to plant a gentle kiss on his matesprit's cheek.

“Goodnight, Pumpkin. Goodnight, um, John.”

“Night Tavros,” the dark-haired human slurred, looking for all the world like a child cuddling into his mother's arms. “Oh, Karkles needs a bed...”

“I've got it. Get some sleep.”

“Mm-hmm,” he murmured weakly. Jade patted his head and gave the two trolls a helpless smile. Tavros gestured Karkat over to the side, speaking softly.

“We've got some, uh, recuperacoons if you'd like. Or, maybe, you'd like to try one of the recuperabeds she invented? All of the benefits, without the, uh, sliminess.”

“Thanks, but I can't afford to sleep that deeply when I'm on the job. One of the normal beds will do fine.”

“Oh, okay, cool. There are some ablution traps a few doors down if you want to get cleaned up. I can keep an eye on things here for you.”

“Thanks, Tav. I'll make it quick.”

“Sure. Oh, uh, one other thing.”

“What?” the nubby-horned troll asked as he paused in the doorway.

“ _Karkles?_ ”

Red flushed his cheeks. “Shut the fuck up, man, I don't want to hear it!”

Tavros grinned widely as Karkat slouched away, growling in embarrassment. He couldn't help it. It was just so good to see two such lonely people getting along so well.

* * *


	2. The Second Day

Blue eyes opened blearily, noting the empty expanse of bed where a warm body should have been. Not surprising; Jade always woke up before him, usually taking the opportunity to hook him up to her machines. Not today, though, John realized as he groggily sat up. He was unusually wire-free.

“Oh, you're up!” Jade said cheerily as she bustled into the lab, carrying a a folded stack of clothes. “Here's the outfit you left here last time. Honestly, John, I'm not your maid, you should do your own damn laundry!”

John smiled a little, still rubbing his eyes. Jade plopped the stack beside him on the bed and handed him his glasses, which he took gratefully. “But they always come out so much nicer when you clean them!” he teased impishly. “Ow!”

“Go take a shower, derpface,” she said, sticking out her tongue as John rubbed the back of his head where she'd smacked him. “You weren't exactly pleasant to cuddle with last night.”

“Sorry,” he replied sheepishly, then woke up fully with a start. “Yesterday! Oh, I have so many things to tell you!”

“I know, I already got most of the story from your bodyguard. He's waiting for you in the cafeteria, by the way. Hurry up and get clean and dressed!”

“Okay, okay, sheesh. So bossy!” he said with a grin. She shook her head with a sigh and left him to his own devices. Stretching and sliding out of bed with a yawn, John looked around the room properly, now that he wasn't dead on his feet. He'd thought it odd the last couple of visits that none of the machines were on. A closer inspection revealed that they were a acquiring a thin sheen of dust. Apparently, Jade had lost interest in her dream studies. If that was the case, where had her focus shifted?

Now that he thought about it, she'd been rather evasive about her work in general lately. Usually she volunteered her latest findings in painfully scientific detail whether he wanted to hear them or not.

Interesting.

The detective made quick work of showering and dressing, moving over his captchalogue and strife cards to the pockets of his fresh set of clothes. Moments later he stepped into the large, open room that served as a dining area for testing volunteers, when Jade had them. It had been empty a lot, lately, and today the kitchen only served four.

“Morning, Karkat!” John greeted as he pulled up a chair across from the troll, who was drinking a mug of coffee and poring over the morning news on his phone. He was wearing another fashionable suit today; properly matched, this time. “Sleep well?”

“Well enough.”

“Anything interesting?” he asked, craning his neck to peer over the device's screen.

“Mostly just articles about yesterday's murder. And political stuff.”

John made an uninterested noise, looking up to greet Tavros with a grin as he fluttered down. The winged troll loved the cafeteria, because the open expanse and tall ceiling meant he had enough room to fly around. He hovered just above their heads, passing down a plate of breakfast and a glass of juice for the latecomer.

“Your usual,” he said with a smile, then pulled out a chair and came to a landing on the seat. “Karkat was just telling me, uh, about your adventures yesterday.”

“So I've been hearing. I didn't take you for the gossipy type, Karkles!”

Karkat instantly shot him a dirty look and Tavros snickered. Jade came over and took a seat as well, bearing a tray of freshly alchemized bagels. “I hope you catch that murderer soon, John,” she said with a shiver. “Those poor people...”

“I'm on the case, don't worry,” John said reassuringly. “That tricky little bastard won't know what hit him!”

Jade frowned. “It's not a game, you know! I know for a _fact_ you wouldn't be so flippant about it if the victims were people you cared about.”

John's smile evaporated, and the two of them glared at each other. A heavy silence descended across the small, round table.

“Uh, so, uh, what are your plans for today?” Tavros cut in nervously, trying to defuse the fight before it got started.

John sniffed, turning away from the source of his antagonism. “Start interviewing the closest peers of the other victims. Look for possible connections to the Midnight Crew, or _anything_ that links them all together. Uhg, another day of talking to people in person...” he trailed off with a groan. Staring at his half eaten plate of food, he pushed it away. “There goes my appetite.”

Jade reached across the table and pushed it right back. “Eat it. I know you skip meals when you're caught up in a case. You'll need the energy.” With a grumble, John picked up his fork and resumed eating, though by his face you'd think he was consuming ash.

“So Jade,” he mumbled around an unpleasant mouthful, “what have you been studying lately?”

Another silence descended across the table, but this time it was less ominous and more embarrassed. The detective arched an eyebrow and Karkat looked up from his phone, both of them taking in the orange blush creeping across Tavros's face and the way Jade had started to fidget.

“Oh-ho,” John smirked. “I seem to have stumbled across something intriguing!”

“John, please, leave it be,” the dark-haired woman implored, which was exactly the wrong thing to do. He leaned back in his chair, resting an ankle across his knee as he stroked his chin, studying the two guilty parties with eyes like a hawk. Karkat propped his elbow on the table, leaning into his hand and preparing to enjoy the show.

“Let's see if I can't figure this out, shall I? Obviously it involves the both of you, and is somewhat embarrassing judging by _someone's_ poor poker face. It has to be scientific in nature, a problem both complex enough and fascinating enough to make you drop your old studies cold. Healing Tavros's legs? No, you wouldn't hide that. Trouble in the bedroom?” The troll turned an even brighter orange and looked indignant. John laughed. “I find that even _less_ likely. No one can deny you're clearly endowed in that department. Dare I say it: horny?”

Jade threw a bagel at John's head, which he nimbly deflected.

“I think more clues are needed. Does your new passion have anything to do with the fact that Feferi has been staying over lately?”

“How—oh, never mind,” she huffed. “Let me guess, long curly hairs in the shower drain? Scales in the sink?”

“Close. The phrase 'Glub Glub' appears on the bathroom mirror when it fogs up.”

“Cod dammit!” she cursed, and even Tavros had to join in the laughter that followed. “I should have known.”

“My first thought was that she was trying to seduce you into the world of politics; there's no denying that you would be a _far_ better asset then I would. Now, though, I think you must be working on something that interests our dear Mayoral candidate. What could it be? Considering her passion for bringing trolls and humans together in harmony, it must relate. A drug to reduce troll aggression? No, not embarrassing enough. Genetic tests to identify a troll's parents? Wouldn't _that_ cause a stir!”

“A stir? Try an upheaval!” Karkat butted in. “I mean, it's great and all that the human government finally pressured Her Imperious Condescension into reducing the danger of the childhood trials, but now there are too many surviving trolls for the lusii to take care of. Adult trolls are already worried that they'll be forced into child-rearing. Combine that with parental tests and there'll be panic in the streets of Alternia City!”

“Wasn't that part of Feferi and Sollux's plan, though, to transform Can City into a testing ground for her solution to the population problem?”

“Well, yeah. Any troll in a relationship with a human would be granted freedom from bucket-filling duties when the Imperial Drones come around; only logical since such a mix would be sterile, anyway. In return, matesprit pairs would be allowed to adopt troll children, on the assumption that humans are used to raising their own young. Well, not their _own_ young. You know what I mean.”

“Mm-hmm,” John said, turning to pin Jade and Tavros down with a cool stare since they were trying to sneak away while he was sidetracked by the tangent. “ _Jade_. Jade, Jade, Jade, take a seat. Don't think I didn't notice the way you flinched when the word 'sterile' came up.”

She turned horribly red, and Karkat looked up at her with a start. “No,” he said slowly with disbelief. “No fucking way. Really? No. Don't tell me you're trying to engineer a half-breed!”

The two matesprits returned to their seats with guilty steps and flutters, looking like scolded children. Jade twirled her long hair nervously around a finger. “I know it's not something that appeals to most trolls, but I think a lot of human women dream of bearing their own children with the one they love! Or, at least...I do,” she whispered sadly. Tavros reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I started out experimenting with my own eggs and Tav's genetic material, trying to get them to recognize each other. Not much luck that way, I'm afraid, so lately I've been writing a program for calculating what kind of genetic changes would be necessary to create a viable, healthy combination between two very different DNA samples.”

“That sounds... difficult. So like, it scans two people, you push a button, and _poof_ —instant baby?”

Jade breathed out a sharp, self-depreciating ' _ha_.' “Maybe someday. Right now I'd be overjoyed if it could just fertilize a single egg.”

“Okay,” John said carefully, realizing they were treading into the dangerous territory of emotions and trying to get back to his comfort zone. “Putting that aside for now, what does Feferi have to do with any of this? I didn't think she had any humans in her quadrants.”

“She doesn't. But her grand plan for the future kind of revolved around the fact that humans and trolls can't breed. I felt a little guilty about what I was doing and decided to talk to her about it one day, just to give her forewarning, you know? But she was really excited by the idea, and started supporting my efforts! I know that creating a new race of half-breeds would only add more tension to an already tense situation, but she's been nothing but encouraging and eager to help. I'm really grateful for her understanding,” she trailed off with a tender smile.

“ _She's courting Jade for moirailship_ ,” Tavros said in an exaggerated stage-whisper. Jade tossed another bagel, John laughed, and Karkat offered his congratulations. “Come on, Pumpkin, you wouldn't regret it,” Tavros continued. “You know how much, uh, fun Gamzee and I are always having!”

“You mean how much trouble you're always getting into?” she teased, and the troll laughed, unrepentant. “I'm thinking about it, jeez! At this rate I might as well find a kismesis and pronounce myself an honorary troll!”

“I doubt even that's necessary,” Karkat interjected, amused. “I don't know a single one of us who actually has every quadrant filled. Not at the same time, anyway; quadrant flippers don't count.”

“What about doubles?” Jade asked, pointing a thumb at her lover. “Tavy's got the ashen one twice over.”

“Yeah, well, auspisticism is tricky like that. It's possible to be the facilitator in one threesome and one of the facilitated in another.”

“See, when I hear the word _threesome_ , something completely different comes to mind,” John muttered, earning a withering glare from Jade.

“That's because you spend too much time airing out other people's dirty laundry!”

“They call me 'The Breeze,'” he joked, and Jade rolled her eyes with a long-suffering sigh. “So anyway. Making babies. You two have fun with that!” More blushes. “I've got a murderer to catch, and I think I've eaten as much as I can stomach. Thanks for putting up with me for the night, as always, and for breakfast! I'll keep you in the loop if I find anything.” John stood and gave his host and hostess a nod while Karkat clapped Tavros across the shoulders.

“It was good to see you again,” the smaller troll said. “And while I'm not sure that what you two are up to is a good idea, I wish you luck anyway.”

“Thank you, Karkat,” Jade smiled warmly. “Take good care of John for me, will you?”

“That's the idea,” he returned with a solemn nod. With that, the two men parted their company, off for another hard day of searching for clues.

Little did they know the four of them would meet again in only a few hours, under much more depressing circumstances.

* * *

“Oh, gog, _he's_ here, too?” the human sneered as he stepped into the small study-room. John and Karkat were in the late Ramnir Lepôr's favorite library, where he had been found dead two weeks ago. The librarian had been very helpful, pointing out other patrons that she had often seen in his company, and they were currently interviewing one of them now; a rather snobbish troll named Malaeus Vox. As evidenced by the sneer that suddenly twisted his black lips, the human's dislike was completely mutual.

“Come in, take a seat,” John said, his patience already wearing thin. “I trust the librarian pointed you this way?”

“Yeah, she said there was a detective snooping around Ramface's death and I should go throw in my two cents. If I'd known Vox was here, I wouldn't have bothered.”

“What's the matter, Asher, afraid you might gain a few IQ points if you breath the same air as me? I know you cling to your stupidity, but this is ridiculous.”

“You wish! Besides, what about you, what possessed _you_ to talk to a _human_ detective? Couldn't find a troll who could pull his head out of his own ass long enough to realize the obvious truth, that the leper got his just deserts?”

“Gentlemen,” John growled through gritted teeth. “Focus, please. Your name, and relationship to the deceased?”

“Gabriel Asher. And the only reason I had the displeasure of knowing that bastard was because I have the even _greater_ displeasure of knowing _this_ fucktard.”

“Believe me, _we_ got the worse end of the bargain,” Malaeus snarled.

“OKAY, fine, just _shut up!_ ” John shouted. “You're both seniors at two different high-schools, you met when the research for your final projects brought you to this library. Now that you've graduated, you still frequent this place just so you can run into each other and pick fights. Great, moving on,” he said smoothly, ignoring their open-mouthed looks of astonishment, “let's talk about your murdered acquaintance now, shall we?”

“You're that guy, aren't you?” Gabriel said with growing amazement. “The genius detective.”

“I've been referred to as such, on occasion,” John said blandly. “Did Mr. Lepôr have any enemies who hated him enough to kill him? Besides yourself, of course.”

“I didn't do it!” the human quickly squeaked. Malaeus snorted, earning a dirty look from his peer.

“Ramnir was pretty well-known for being a human-hater. I could never match his passion for the subject, save in one respect.” He glared at Gabriel, who glared back. “I don't know that he inspired enough hatred to get himself killed, though. Opinions like his are tolerated in this city as long as you don't act on them. To be honest, he was mostly a lot of bluster.”

“I see,” John murmured, looking over the papers from the police file on his case. “It says here he had a very high resistance to mind-control?”

“Yes. He was a blue-blood, after all, you can't get much better then that!” Gabriel rolled his eyes dramatically, thus initiating another exchange of dirty looks.

“Hmm. Tell me, what was his opinion on political matters?”

“Funny you should ask that. Our senior project was a lengthy essay about why the proposed plans of the Peixes/Captor party were going to destroy the glory of troll society.”

Gabriel made a scoffing noise. “And _my_ project was about why trolls shouldn't have any say in political matters that affect humans _at all_. That's how we met, unfortunately; we needed some of the same research materials.”

“Fascinating. So if he was against that party, which one did he promote?”

“Oh, um. Well.” The troll shifted uncomfortably. “Ramnir wasn't exactly the most constructive of trolls. He just wanted to tear other people's solutions apart, not offer his own. I don't think he actually promoted anyone.”

“Oh, don't even try to paint him in a neutral light,” Gabriel cut in. “That jerk bashed _everyone_ ; trolls, carapaces, the mobs, you name it. Nobody could do anything right in his eyes. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if it was the Midnight Crew that bumped him off.”

“Really?” John said, trying hard not to show his interest. “What makes you say that?”

“Because that's what mobs do?”

“Yes, but why _them_ , as opposed to the Felt?”

“Oh. He always ragged on them more; said this city wouldn't be so soft if they hadn't fallen out with the Mayor and Vice-Mayor. If there were more Dersites counseling them, instead of just WQ and WK, then maybe this city would actually be respected instead of playing the biggest laughing stock on Incipisphere. I'm pretty sure he even wrote angry letters about it to Spades Slick himself; told him to stop hiding behind his figurehead, Mobster Kingpin, and get some real work done. Did he actually send those, Mal?”

“Fuck if I know. And don't address me so familiarly! _Gabe_.”

“Yes, children, I get the picture,” John cut in before the next shouting match could occur. “I think that will do for the two of you. You've been very helpful, Mr. Vox, Mr. Asher. You may go. _Please_.”

The two stood up, faces creased in varying degrees of offense, which they immediately forgot as soon as they both tried to walk out the door at the same time. John rubbed his temples in frustration as the sound of their squabbles finally drifted out of earshot.

Karkat leaned back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head. “Ten boondollars says they start making out as soon as they leave the library,” he bet smugly.

“What?” John asked, clearly startled from his train of thought. “What are you talking about? They obviously loath each other, but what makes you think it's... that?”

“Are you kidding?” Karkat scoffed. “The sexual tension in the air was so thick I could barely breathe! It takes a special kind of human to fill the black quadrant. Mr. Vox is quite lucky.”

“I'm sorry, I just don't see it. For one thing, neither of them bore any of the tell-tale marks such a violent relationship tends to leave.”

“Well, _yeah_ , they probably haven't met since Lepôr's death. He was the link between them, and it's taken them two weeks of mourning before they got the nerve to seek each other out on their own.”

“Now you're suggesting that Mr. Asher was broken up by the troll's passing? I figured he would have been dancing on his grave.”

“John, John, John,” the agent said piteously. “You maybe be an ace at cold hard logic, but I am the _master_ of spotting troll romance. Ten boons. Sloppy hate make-outs. You in or out?”

“Fine, I'll take that bet,” John said as they both rose to peer out the large window in the study-room. They were on the second story, high enough to have a good vantage point without it being completely obscured by tree leaves. The sun was just reaching its peak for the day, and the two gentlemen in question were now exiting the library doors. They were obviously still arguing, though their watchers were mercifully spared the sound of it. They both set foot in the same direction, which just seemed to start a _new_ fight between them. They started down the path, snarling like cats, until Gabriel gave the troll a mighty shove. Malaeus brushed off his shoulder as if he'd been infected by human germs, then gave him a shove back, which sent him toppling into the grass.

They were at it, now! Gabe leaped to his feet just in time to be plowed backwards into the tree line that offered a shady alternative for those who liked to read outside during pleasant weather. The human managed to redirect Mal's own force so as to send him careening ungainly into the ground, face first. Furious, the troll leaped up and threw fist after fist, which were all nimbly dodged even as Mr. Asher hopped over benches and weaved behind tree-trunks.

“Looks like your standard brawl to me,” John remarked.

“Give them about 15 more seconds,” Karkat said confidently. “Notice how Mr. Vox isn't using his claws? He's trying to be considerate of his kismesis's vulnerabilities. And Mr. Asher is obviously trying to lead him under the trees to give them a little more privacy.”

A few more blows were exchanged, the both of them getting thoroughly worked up, before Gabriel suddenly messed up, taking a fist in the gut that he should have been perfectly capable of dodging. He fell back against a tree-trunk, which gave Malaeus the perfect opportunity to pin him against it. They glared icy daggers at each other, lips twisted in snarls.

And then, their lips were twisted with each other's.

John made a funny choking noise, turning red. Down below, hands that had been clenched in fists mere seconds ago were now slipping under clothing; bodies that had been dancing dangerously around each other were rutting together in a manner that was quickly bordering on indecent.

“Oh!” the detective exclaimed nervously, backing away from the window. “Wow. Well. I guess you won that bet.”

“Told you,” the agent said smugly, not taking his eyes from the scene. “Damn, they're really going at it. At this rate they're going to need a bucket, fast.”

“I don't need the details, thanks,” he breathed, voice curiously high. The troll didn't respond, absorbed in the sight below. “Oh, for gog's sake, how can you watch that?”

Karkat finally looked up, arching a brow. “What? It's beautiful; two young people so perfectly in hate. Would you feel better if they were in love?”

“No, not in the slightest. I'd prefer it if they weren't making out at all.”

The troll walked over to him very slowly, eyes narrowed in puzzlement. “What's this about? You don't have that weird human-thing, do you?”

“I have a lot of 'weird human-things.' You're going to have to be more specific.”

“That one about dating someone of your own gender. Or rather, hating people who do that.”

“Homophobia? How could I be friends with Rose and Kanaya if I was homophobic?”

“Oh, yeah. Okay then, what's the problem?”

“Nothing!” he said defensively, turning away. “I just can't stand the sight of people getting fresh.”

Karkat stopped trying to circle the man. “Is this because of your Dad, again?”

“I don't want to talk about it. Don't you already know everything about that from the FBI, anyway?”

“Just the facts. Doesn't mean I wouldn't rather hear about it from you. How else will I understand the real effect it had on the way you think, the way you are?”

“You don't need to understand me. You're my bodyguard, not my psychologist.”

Karkat blinked in surprise, looking a touch hurt. A moment later his face twisted into a self-depreciating scowl. “Of course,” he said distantly. “I merely asked because it would help me guard you better, to know the way you respond to certain things. But whatever, it's not necessary. Forget about it.” He turned away, backing up to lean against the wall so he could do his job properly; out of sight and out of mind.

John shifted uncomfortably, staring longingly out the door to see if the librarian had spotted anyone else for them to interview. No such luck. He glanced over at the troll and sighed. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You're angry.”

“No I'm not.”

“Yes you are.”

“Do you _want_ me to be angry?”

“I want you to tell me what's wrong.”

“Fine, I'm angry! Only at myself, though.”

“Why?”

“For forgetting my professionalism. It was just foolishness on my part.”

Now John looked confused. “I thought you _were_ being professional. Were you lying about needing to understand me in order to protect me?”

“Not exactly. It really does help.”

“Then what--”

“I just thought we were getting along well, alright? Jegus, give it a rest!”

John stared with wide eyes. Karkat snarled mentally: he was doing that thing again, where he looked like a child. To make matters more uncomfortable, he was moving closer, pinning him in place against the wall with those blue orbs.

“You mean,” he started uncertainly, uncomprehendingly, “you thought...we were friends?”

“It was stupid, okay? We only just met. Who makes friends with their temporary bodyguard, anyway? I was just letting your enthusiasm from last night go to my head. Don't worry, I won't let it happen again.”

“You actually _wanted_ to be my friend?”

Karkat stared at him, a flash of pity twisting his brows upward. “Don't act so amazed, you're not _that_ bad. Besides, you have friends.”

“I have old friends who tolerate me because they remember what I used to be like. Beyond that I have distant, faceless fans and colleagues who are polite long enough to get what they need and get away. I don't have people who truly like me for who I am now.”

“Well, you _are_ an arrogant, stubborn, clueless idiot of a genius sociopath. And you _do_ get entirely too much pleasure at the downfall of others, even baiting your friends and enemies alike to get a rise out of them. And you _are_ riddled with neuroses that wear on the patience of everyone around you. And the flippant way you treat sensitive matters like _murder_ is rather heartless. Not to mention--”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” John cut him off, face turning sour.

“But I like you well enough,” Karkat finished.

The human's expression opened in surprise, making him look surprisingly vulnerable. He studied the troll in silence, trying to find the lie; but of course, Karkat was just as honest as always. “So...”

“So?”

“What exactly did you want to know?”

“About what?”

“About my Dad, dipshit!”

Karkat snorted rather comically as he tried and failed to hide both his surprise and his laugh. “Just...you know. Why do you hate the idea of sex so much? He didn't abuse you, did he?”

“No,” John scoffed, turning a chair sideways and taking a seat. Karkat did the same, so they were both facing each other beside the table. “But he tricked all those people! They all did, our guardians. They were running that scam operation for decades; moving from city to city, seducing the rich and conning them out of their money before they vanished. My Dad specialized in bored housewives, Rose's Mom in businessmen, Jade's Grandpa in lonely widows, and Dave's Bro in spoiled heiresses. We don't even know who our other parents are, or even if our guardians are our parents at all. We could all be adopted, or related for all we know.” He slouched in the chair, crossing his arms in a defensive gesture. “Ever since I uncovered the truth, we all tried to cope in our own ways. Dave and Jade turned away from the world; he lost himself in his music and she in her dreams. Rose and I decided to attack it instead; she with psychology and I with detective-work. But since then, I just can't stand the sight of people... making out, or the thought of, you know... having sex, myself. I start thinking of my Dad, and the way he used it as a crime. My stomach churns, and I feel sick.”

Karkat was silent for a little while. “Are you afraid you'll turn out like him?”

John laughed. “That's something Rose always asks me. I know I'm nothing like him. I know that, in my head. The knowledge doesn't seem to help, though.”

“What about the sleeping thing? I don't get that one at all.”

“That. Yeah. Before he died, my Dad was something of a doting parent. Before I decided I was too old for that sort of thing, I adored him for it. He taught me the piano, how to cook, and the importance of mangrit. I used to be obsessed with the stupidest movies, but he was never too busy or too tired of them to sit through one more showing. I don't know how many nights I fell asleep on the sofa after a movie, curled up against his chest and listening to his heartbeat.” John's blue eyes grew fond and distant, a slight smile tugging his lips. “He would carry me up to my room and tuck me in so gently I never woke up. It got to the point that he wouldn't let me watch a movie until after I had brushed my teeth and changed into my pajamas.”

The tender expression on his face melted into ugly bitterness. “Now I know that he was sneaking out of the house after he put me to bed, into the arms of his latest victim. After he was killed, after they _all_ were killed, us four kids clung to each other for comfort in our grief. That was when I started to be unable to fall sleep without someone else's warmth and presence. Even after I uncovered the truth and shattered the illusion, I still couldn't. If anything, my problem solidified after that.”

They were silent for a few moments, thinking their own thoughts. “This is kind of weird,” John finally remarked.

“What?”

“Explaining things to someone new. I talk with the others sometimes, but they already know all the back-story.”

“Is it a bad weird?” Karkat asked carefully.

“I...guess not. I wouldn't want to talk about it to someone else, but with you it's kind of...refreshing.”

“That's good. Refreshing is good. You seemed like you were stuck in a rut. Maybe this will help you out?”

“Maybe. It doesn't seem to have hurt, at least.” He looked up into Karkat's eyes and smiled. “Thanks.”

Karkat found his face growing inexplicably warm. “It's nothing,” he said gruffly, embarrassed.

“Are you blushing?”

“No!”

“You totally are! That's so cute!”

“No it isn't! I mean, no I'm not! Stop _staring_ at me, you socially retarded pink monkey!”

“Heh heh heh heh! You're hilarious, Karkles!”

“My name isn't Karkles!” he growled, but John was distracted by a vibration from his phone. Still grinning, he pulled it out and opened up the text.

The smile vanished.

“What is it?” Karkat asked, an ominous tension suddenly filling the air.

“Chief Sleuth is summoning us to a crime scene.” He looked up and met the troll's orange gaze grimly. “The serial murderer has already struck again.”

* * *

As soon as he set foot in the museum and saw the body, John knew he wouldn't be able to treat this as a game anymore. Judging by Karkat's sharp intake of breath, his bodyguard recognized the victim, too.

Shimmering dark curls of hair were splayed like a halo around the lady troll's head. The curled ram's horns that lay broken in pieces beside her did nothing to detract from her angelic beauty.

Sweet, feisty Aradia Megido. Tavros and Jade's auspistice. Dead.

John swallowed and clenched his fists, struggling to recover his cool logic and distance so he could analyze the scene properly. He pulled out his ever-present magnifying lens and knelt down to examine the corpse, with perhaps a bit more care than normal. Clues. Please let there be new clues. This killer needed to be stopped.

If there had been any doubt about the extent of the culprit's strength before, they were definitely gone now. Aradia was almost a cyborg; her long-time kismesis/matesprit was constantly upgrading her limbs and organs with robotic equivalents, mostly out of necessity. Equius was also possessed of great strength, and the two were constantly flipping quadrants due to the pity and hatred that the injuries he accidentally inflicted on her caused. Right now, though, her metal limbs lay twisted in pieces around her, except for one arm that clutched at her throat. Bruises in the shape of her own robotic fingers darkened the gray skin, and tracks of dark red tears trailed down her cheeks.

  


Things weren't looking good for Mr. Zahhak. Problem Sleuth assured them that the troll was already being arrested for questioning.

John continued his inspection of the body, pouring over every detail. As usual, a petal had been burned into the skin, this time on the stomach. It looked a bit sloppier than usual, but was otherwise the same. The bruises on her body alluded to the same method of death; beaten while standing unrestrained. There was nothing else different. No hint to point him in the right direction.

On the body, anyway.

Standing up, John began walking around the nearby museum exhibits. Something felt off, and until he figured it out, he wouldn't be able to shake the feeling that he was missing something important. They were in the statuary room, a large, open space filled with carved figures of stone, clay and wood. Massive works of art stood on display upon large, roped off pedestals, while smaller ones were protected behind glass display cases. A great many of them had been unearthed and donated by Aradia herself. She was fairly well renowned for her archaeological prowess. John stared intently at a small stone figure of a winged consort, unreachable behind the locked cabinet. An idea was forming.

“Are there cameras in this room?” he asked out of mere curiosity, not actually expecting to find anything down that route.

“There are, but the power went out just before she was attacked. They didn't record anything,” Sleuth informed him.

“Of course not,” he sighed. “Tell me, what did Ms. Megido have in her strife specibus?”

“Nothing. She got by just fine with her robotic enhancements and the way they boosted her psychic powers.”

“Telekinesis, right?”

“Correct.”

“Don't you find it odd?”

Karkat finally shook off his dazed expression and joined the conversation. “What is?”

“Our victim had the power to move objects with her mind. Even if she were restrained, she would still be able to fight back. She could have flung one of these heavy objects at her attacker. So why didn't she?”

“They're all priceless artifacts! She would never risk breaking them.”

“Exactly!” John exclaimed, rubbing his hands together vigorously. “Her attacker picked this location for exactly that reason. The murderer knew her, and she knew him. Ms. Megido was no stranger to pain. Those aren't tears of agony on her face; they're tears of sadness.”

Karkat looked stricken, and Sleuth removed his hat in sorrowful respect. John took another sweeping glance around the room, taking it all in. “As it was, she _did_ use her powers in this room. But not to defend herself. To leave a message!” He waved his hands in an expansive gesture. “What's wrong with this picture?”

Everyone was looking around now, from the police chief to the last investigator. “I don't see anything missing,” NB said hesitantly.

“No, everything is still here, and nothing has been broken. But tell me, is this the proper way to display a statue?”

The museum curator had finally gotten the nerve to enter the room, though he still didn't dare look toward the body. “They're not facing forward,” he said with wonder. “They've all been turned slightly.”

“Yes,” John said with a hiss. “Not much, not enough that the killer would notice when he looked around. But from the heaviest two-story statue to every little untouchable trinket behind glass, they've all shifted.” He began to move carefully about the room, flitting from statue to statue. “But not all the same direction,” he concluded. “In fact, if they'd been turned further, I suspect they'd all be staring at a single point.” He continued to weave in and out around the displays, until he suddenly stopped.

“Right here,” said softly. “This is the only one that hasn't been moved.”

It was a carving of an ogre with two faces; one grinning, one snarling. John stared at it, his eyes searching its polished form for meaning. “Aradia wanted us to see this,” he whispered to himself. “This is the clue she wanted me to find, her dying message. Two faces, one body. Duplicitousness. Duality. Pluralism. Hidden natures. Extremes. Is she fingering Equius by the way their relationship flies from one pole to another? Polarity.” He paused. “Bi-polarity?” Slowly the detective turned around, his brows furrowed. “Isn't Sollux Aradia's moirail?”

“Yes,” Karkat confirmed.

He gave a nod to Chief Sleuth. “You'd better bring him in, too.”

* * *

Neither Equius nor Sollux would have been pleased to know that they reacted exactly the same to the news of Ms. Megido's death, which is to say: badly. The both of them ran from one extreme to another, sobbing one moment and swearing retribution on her killer the next. If they'd been in the same room and had known they were both suspects, they probably would have killed each other.

John watched them from behind the one-way mirrors, shaking his head. It was too dangerous for him to interview them yet. He'd have to wait until they calmed down. As it was, he had an even less pleasant task to attend to right now, anyway. Tavros and Jade were about to arrive.

He stepped outside, staring up into the cloudless, late-afternoon sky. A winged form with ridiculously long horns was approaching fast, cradling a human in its arms. As they came in for a landing, Tavros set Jade down on the sidewalk gently, she in turn un-captchaloguing a wheelchair for him to drop into. They looked up at John with bloodshot, watery eyes, and he realized he had no idea what to say.

Fortunately, it seemed they weren't looking for words. Jade flung herself into his arms, crushing his ribcage with the tightness of her grasp as she tried to stifle her wails into his shirt. Moments later and Karkat had taken her place at Tavros's side, lending his own brand of comfort for the grieving troll.

“Come on inside,” John said awkwardly. “Let's get you some coffee and sit down someplace quiet.”

Tavros wheeled up the ramp and they passed through the doors. “I just can't believe she's gone,” he said in a soft voice, clutching his drink after they'd all gotten comfortable in Sleuth's empty office. John figured it would be a bit more comfortable than an unused interrogation room. “Jade and I had a long chat with her, uh, only a few days ago. She hounds us all the time over the state of our relationship, as is proper. She, uh, wanted to make sure we didn't have to suffer the agonies that she always goes through with Equius.”

“Why would anyone kill her?” Jade sobbed. John eyed her cup apprehensively; it was going to spill coffee all over the floor if she leaned forward any further. He wondered if it made him a bad person, that he wasn't upset by Aradia's death for her own sake so much as for the fact that he would have to endure the grief of these two because of it. Yeah, that was probably a bit not good.

“That's what I hope to figure out,” the detective said, trying his best to be comforting. “Do you know if Aradia had any association with or problems due to the Midnight Crew?”

Tavros wiped away a few coppery tears and looked up at him. “Uh, are they the ones behind these murders?”

“I don't know. But they're my strongest lead for the moment.”

Jade and Tavros shook their heads sadly. “I'm sorry, but I've never heard her say anything about them, one way or another,” she sniffled.

John sighed. “No matter. I still have two suspects to investigate, the others in her quadrants.”

The dark-haired woman blinked. “You mean, Equius and Sollux?”

“Yes. They've already been brought in for questioning.”

The two matesprits exchanged glances, seemingly holding a conversation with their eyes. John found the sight extremely irritating, for some reason. “What is it?” he asked, a touch more roughly than he meant.

“Well...by now it's been about three hours since she died, right?”

“Correct.”

“Then it couldn't be Sollux. He joined Feferi in our company today. They only left the labs maybe one hour ago!”

John felt his mouth go dry. He exchanged a look with Karkat before pinning her with his stare. “You're certain? They were there all afternoon? He didn't leave at any point and come back?”

“Yes, yes, and definitely not. There's no way he could have been the killer!”

John exhaled loudly and leaned back, crossing his arms. If Aradia's message wasn't referring to him, was it for her lover after all? Two faces. Doubles. Double-cross? Was she secretly dealing with the Midnight Crew and they betrayed her? It was a thought, but John didn't want to put much weight behind it. It felt too much like he was twisting facts to match a hypothesis, instead of the other way around. Unless he could find proof of a connection between the young archaeologist and the mob.

“I see,” he said at last. “In that case, I have more work to do. Will you two be alright by yourselves?”

“Oh, uh, by all means, don't slow down for us. We'll be okay.”

“Please find her killer!”

John gave them a grim nod and rose to leave, his shadow right behind. He was certain he could find the culprit. It was only a matter of time.

But who else would die before that time came to pass?

* * *

“Why am I being held here?” Equius asked tiredly. Eventually the police had been forced to bring in the giant troll's moirail in order to calm him down, so now he was slouched over the bent and battered metal table, holding his head in his hands as the small, catlike woman ran her hands soothingly over his arms. A ferocious beauty and a despairing beast.

“Your relationship with the deceased was well known for its volatile nature,” John answered. “That's enough cause for suspicion right there. Not to mention the way she appears to have strangled herself. Perhaps you could stand the strain no longer and tampered with her machinery?”

“I would never,” he moaned with a broken sob. “I love her.”

“And yet you were often her kismesis.”

“Some times I hated her and some times I pitied her. But I _always_ loved her.”

The detective couldn't comprehend that notion at all, but Karkat appeared to understand. John decided to leave that kind of judgement to him, since he seemed better qualified. “Can you tell us what you were doing around the time of her death?”

“I was in my workshop, tinkering with my latest designs. Aradia wanted a sonar attachment, something that could analyze what was underground to aid in her digs. I was about to build one for her...” he trailed off and the sound of large tears splashing on metal could be heard, though the sight was hidden under the curtain of his long hair. Nepeta made a soft whimpering noise and pressed against him, nuzzling her face against his massive shoulders.

“Can you think of anyone else who had reason to kill her? Has she ever had any entanglements with the mobs?”

He shook his head, shoulders starting to shake with stifled sobs. Nepeta sat up, though, her wide, sorrowful eyes turning his way. “I don't know about entanglements, but she mentioned once that she hated the way they smuggle valuable artifacts away to sell to collectors, instead of putting them in a museum for all to see.”

“I see,” he responded, deep in thought. Another vague connection. He hated that there was never any tangible proof to support this hypothesis. He was starting to suspect he wouldn't find anything down that road at all. But it was the only connection he had so far. Unless...

“Mr. Zahhak. Where were you yesterday, shortly before noon?”

“Yesterday?” There was a pause as he struggled to think.

“With me, remember?” Nepeta said helpfully. “We went to that new steakhouse!”

“Oh, yes. It was quite good.”

Well, there went that idea. Mr. Zahhak matched his profile for the killer surprisingly well, aside from the trustworthiness/smooth talker aspect. He was certainly strong enough, which over time had taught him caution, and his expertise with fine machinery spoke for an intelligent mind. If his alibi checked out, though, it would probably put him in the clear as well.

“I think...I'm done here,” John said slowly. Karkat looked at him in surprise, but didn't say anything. “I'll give the police my recommendation to send you home. My condolences for your loss.” They left the interrogation room and closed the door with a quiet click.

“That was quick,” Karkat remarked.

“There's nothing more of any use he can tell me.”

“I kind of thought you'd grill him harder. Most people would find him extremely suspicious.”

“I would too...if not for Ms. Megido's message.”

“Really? I thought it suited him perfectly. A smiling face and a sneering face for her matesprit-kismesis.”

“True...but if she wanted to accuse her lover, there were a dozen _far_ more obvious statues she could have picked. Aradia was a clever woman. I think she was trying to convey something more complex.”

“Like what?”

“If I knew that, we'd have our killer.”

Someone was approaching them with determination in his stride; they turned to find the handsome figure of Sollux Captor. His four horns were only slightly longer than Karkat's, and he was sharply dressed in stark black and white colors, his shoes intentionally mismatched. “Is it him?” he asked around his lisp, red and blue eyes narrowing darkly behind his similarly colored glasses. “I'll kill him. Did he do it?”

“I don't believe so,” John reassured him, and the troll seemed to deflate.

“I just...I feel like I should be doing something. I feel restless, like this is my fault somehow. I should have gone with her today! She had invited me to see her latest additions, but I'd already promised Fef I'd come look at Jade's coding today. Whatever happened to 'rails before pails? Oh _gog_ , I saw the pictures--” he broke off, too choked up to finish that sentence. John looked helplessly at Karkat, who took mercy on him and rested an arm around the taller troll's shoulders, directing his grief away from the discomforted human.

“It's okay, Sol. Don't hold that shit in, it'll eat you alive.”

He laughed sadly, pulling off his glasses and wiping the yellow tears from his angular face. “It's good to hear your voice again, KK, I've missed your filthy language.”

“Hey, I'm way better then I used to be!”

“True, very true.” He straightened up and put his shades back on, turning to look at the detective who was trying to inch away. “So what are you doing hanging out with _this_ famous douche-bag?”

“Guard duty. Just until this election is over.”

“Hmmm. That reminds me, I wanted to talk to him about that.”

“Oh, boy,” John cut in before he could even get started. “I pretty sure I've already made my opinion on the matter clear to Feferi!”

“I just don't get it, though. Do you not like our plan?”

“Your plan is fine! If you win the election, I'm sure you'll pull it off without a hitch. But I'm not a political spokesman!”

“But the public loves you! If you just said a good word for us, it would add a lot of weight to our argument against those that say we're not grounded in reality.”

“Mr. Captor, please,” John said, patience wearing thin. “The only reason the public loves me is because I catch criminals. _That's_ my job, and that's what I plan to stick to. I would appreciate it if you would just look at me as another voter, and nothing more.”

Sollux opened his mouth to speak again, but a gentle pressure from Karkat's hand on his shoulder stopped him. The candidate glanced at his friend, whose expression only shifted slightly but apparently conveyed a message all the same. Sollux frowned, but didn't persist in badgering the human any longer. John smiled, grateful that the matter had been dropped.

“So,” the four-horned troll said in a sudden shift back to the previous conversation, “do you have any idea who killed my Aradia? If you need any help bringing him in, don't hesitate to call me. I'll be _glad_ to pound his ass into submission.” Flashes of psychic energy sparked around his head as he growled.

“None yet. But I'll keep your offer in mind,” John said politely. Sollux's anger vanished as quickly as it had come, replaced instead with a skeptical but good-humored laugh.

“ _Sure_ you will. Don't think I don't know an insincere campaign promise when I hear one, Egbert.” They smiled at each other, shaking their heads. “Well, don't let me hold you up any longer,” Sollux said, turning to leave. “Right now, I feel like your work is far more important than mine. Catch that bastard, Detective Egbert. For Aradia.”

“For all the victims, Mr. Captor,” John replied with a nod. Sollux gave one last wave to Karkat and disappeared. The silence in his wake was something of a relief; any kind of interaction with the bipolar troll was exhausting work. Karkat was fairly certain that the only reason Feferi could handle him was because she grew up dealing with someone far, far worse.

“What now?” the troll asked.

“Let's go to my place,” John said after a moment. “I need to think.”

* * *

The detective's place of residence was a cramped, one bedroom, second-floor apartment populated by dust bunnies, stacks upon stacks of books, and abandoned forensic experiments. The pantries were bare except for a few cans that were well past their expiration dates, and the bedroom appeared to have never been used. The walls were covered in cork boards, which in turn were covered in gruesome photos, maps, and note cards written up in his illegible scrawl. The only item that appeared to receive any kind of love and care was an upright piano, nestled in between two windows that looked out over the street.

John shuffled into the main room, clearing off the coffee table with a sweep of his arm, dumping all the old papers onto the floor. He plopped down on the faded sofa and ejected everything in his sylladex across the freshly revealed surface. Finding nowhere else to sit that wasn't buried under stacks of books and papers, Karkat took a seat beside him.

“Oh!” the pale-skinned man exclaimed in surprise after he had finished re-cluttering the table with police files, his phone, keys, a pad of paper and a pen, a clip of boondollars, a few mallets and hammers, a disguise kit, a first aid kit, a magnifying lens, a flashlight, and for some reason, a deck of playing cards labeled 'Not At All Suspicious.' “I still have the Felt's quarters! I forgot to hand them over to Sleuth.” He held up the small leather pouch, which clinked when he shook it.

“Jegus, keep that thing closed, then! The last thing we need is to accidentally knock them off the table and summon a swarm of those fuckers into the middle of your apartment.”

“Good point. I'll worry about getting these back to the police tomorrow.” He leaned over and spread out the files, then stared at them for a grand total of 30 seconds before getting up and pacing around the room. “I need to interview the peers of the other two victims. They were killed at night, so I suspect they were more of the nocturnal type. We should be able to start asking around in a few more hours.”

Karkat made a disgruntled noise, and John grinned. “Come now, you knew you weren't going to be getting much sleep when you took this job! Don't start complaining now!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I just didn't expect for that to be on top of such abnormally draining circumstances.”

“I've got coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.”

Karkat snorted a laugh, then jumped when there was a sudden banging on the front door. A split second later, John's phone vibrated in place on the table. He scooped it up to check the message and gave an exasperated sigh. “I hope you're not on too bad of terms with your ex. Otherwise, this might get a bit uncomfortable!” The troll groaned and rolled his eyes while John got the door.

“Sub, Egderp,” said a deep male voice. Karkat craned his neck to get his first glimpse of the douche who was dating his one-time matesprit. Dave Strider was tall, though not as tall as John, and much more muscular. Pale blond hair was slicked back over his head, with trim sideburns trailing down past his ears. Dark black shades obscured his eyes in much the same way Terezi's red ones did. Karkat wondered if he was blind, too.

“We're here to make sure you eat!” Terezi announced as she peeked around his shoulders, her wicked teeth bared in a predatory grin. A plastic bag filled with styrofoam containers was clutched in her long-clawed fingers. Even though she worked with humans, _this_ lady troll never did anything to make herself less dangerous. It was all part of her image as a prosecutor.

John wrinkled his nose. “Really? Jade put you up to this, didn't she.”

“Of course. Since when do I babysit your pathetic-ass self? That and Terezi wanted the chance to come terrorize your bodyguard for a while.”

“Ah. That makes more sense.”

Karkat sputtered, but the pointy-horned vixen was already prancing into the room and dropping the take-out bag on the floor. “Karkles, how I've missed your nubby little-boy horns!” she cackled, already reaching for them with a pounce.

“Whoa, back off, you crazy blood-sniffer,” the troll shouted, leaping off the couch and barely evading her as she chased after him. “And my horns are almost as long as yours, shut up!”

“Oh, do I smell a blush? A tasty candy-red blush? Dave never blushes for me, he's no fun. Can I lick you? Just for old time's sake?”

“No! Stop _chasing_ me, you freak! Your matesprit is _right there!_ ”

“I've got other quadrants open! We can make this work!”

John watched them chase each other around the living room with his eyebrows as high as they could go. “Should you be stopping her, maybe?” he asked the coolguy beside him.

“Nah. I already know what she's up to. Let's just clear off some more chairs and dig in.” Bewildered, the detective slipped past the crazy trolls and unloaded the two other seats that circled the coffee table. As soon as they were clear, Dave settled into one and Terezi dived into the other, once again leaving John and Karkat to share the small sofa.

Once the food had been passed around and the odor hit Karkat's nose, he realized he was ravenous. He tore into his portion with fervor, earning a chuckle from the blond man. “Yeah, I figured as much,” Dave said smugly. “I know you hate to eat when you're on a case, John, but try not to starve the guy who's keeping your pasty ass safe.”

“We heard about how you trounced the Felt last night, Karkles! Nicely done!”

The troll swallowed his food and opened his mouth to deny it, but John jumped into the conversation before he could. “Oh, man, you should have seen it! Bullets were flying all over the place, giant thugs were surrounding him, and he was like 'hell yeah, you can't touch this!'”

“I never said that.”

“Oh, and he knew exactly what to do and what not to do! I would have been stuck traveling all over the time stream without him. He had all the inside info!”

“Of course he did. The Felt haven't changed much since the old days,” Terezi interjected. At John's blank look, she grinned and turned to the other troll. “You haven't told him about that, yet?”

“I haven't had the chance.”

“Told me about what?”

“Karkat used to run with the Midnight Crew!”

John turned and pinned him with wide-eyed, accusing look. “You _what?_ ”

“Jegus, Terezi, thanks for phrasing it like that,” Karkat reprimanded her with a scowl. He turned to meet John's look with a neutral one. “Back in the days when I still hid my blood color, when the Midnight Crew wasn't yet completely devoted to crime, I had a run-in with Jack Noir—Spades Slick. He's the one who discovered my secret; by stabbing me in the gut, actually. I was a pretty damn annoying kid,” he said with a dark little smile. “When I started flipping my shit, he cut his own hand, showed me that his blood was the same. I knew in theory that the other races had candy-red blood just like me, but I'd never seen it with my own eyes before. That he would make a gesture like that was kind of touching.” He paused for a moment, a faraway look in his eyes.

“My lusus got ill and passed away not long after that, so I had to take to the streets. Jack remembered me and kind of... kept an eye out. When I kept getting into trouble, he finally threw his hands up and took me under his wing. Taught me how to fight and keep my nose clean. I learned a lot about the other members, and how to handle the Felt. When the Crew kept getting into darker and darker shit, though, I stayed behind. Jack didn't give me much grief about it. I thought it was because he just didn't care, at first, but now I think it might have been because he _did_.”

John's cold, critical eyes had finally softened a little, which Karkat took as a good sign. “So that's the story of my errant youth. My colorful past was both a help and a hindrance in getting accepted to the FBI. It's also another of the reasons I was qualified to guard _you_ , John. You got a problem with that?”

The human rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sadly. “No, I suppose not. When it comes to having guardians with dark sides, I'm hardly in a position to judge.”

“Then we're good?”

“We're good,” he said, smiling more brightly.

“Great. Now eat something, fucktard.”

John laughed and returned to picking at his food. When he looked up, however, he realized that Terezi was leering at them and Dave was looking rather amused. “What?”

“Nothin',” Dave replied with a shrug, looking over at his matesprit instead. She continued to stare at them in her unnerving, unseeing manner, her Cheshire-grin unwavering.

“ _What?_ ”

“Nothing! By the way, Dave and I wanted to discuss something else with you, John!”

“O...kay. Such as?”

“We've been talking about taking our relationship up a notch.”

“Um. Congratulations?”

“Thanks! I thought it would be an ironically sappy gesture of our new lovey-er dovey-er state if we swapped shades, but Coolkid here got all balky and said you might be offended if he gave away the gift you gave him!”

“Oh!” John said, relieved to have finally figured out where he came into the picture. “It's okay, Dave, I don't mind! Those sunglasses have become yours a thousand times over by now. The fact that you still thought you needed to ask makes me really happy, actually!” He smiled brightly.

“Yay!” Terezi cheered. She removed her precious, pointed shades, her dearest family heirloom, and passed them reverently over to her lover. Her completely red eyes were as disturbing to look upon as always. Dave took her gift with care, slipping off his own round black sunglasses with similar formality.

Karkat thought that the human must have been blind after all, since he kept his eyes closed, but Terezi cackled at him. “Aw, you don't have to hide from Karkles, he's harmless! Don't you want to see this?” Dave huffed and hesitantly opened his eyes, the blond lashes parting to reveal eyes as red as Terezi's, as red as his blood. Pleased, Terezi placed his signature glasses delicately in place over her ears, her tongue darting and tasting the air as Dave mirrored her actions.

“This will take some getting used to,” he remarked. “Everything's so red.”

“Isn't it decadent?” she exclaimed, rising out of her chair and slinking into his lap. “You smell pretty fantastic, too,” she purred, running a tongue up his cheek. He turned his head with exaggerated care.

“It's been ages since I had pointed shades. It'll take a while to get used to them again. Hope I don't poke anyone's eyes out in the meantime.”

“Oh no, not my eyes!” she giggled, and he chuckled in return. They leaned in for sloppy makeouts and John looked away, putting his food down and looking uncomfortable.

“Oh, one more thing, John,” Terezi stated after they pulled away. “About the actual content of our relationship upgrade.”

“What?” he asked, daring to look back.

Shark teeth glistened ominously. “I don't want you sleeping with my matesprit anymore.”

A sort of stunned silence filled the room as he stared at her dumbly. “Buh?”

“You heard her, genius. We've been coddling you too long. It's time to put your man-pants on and show us that fabled mangrit you always used to talk about. How long did you expect this to carry on, exactly?”

 _Forever_ , John thought, but had a feeling it would not be an answer they wanted to hear. “But...I've always tried to be as unobtrusive as possible!”

“We know, dude. We're not blaming you for anything. This is for you as much as it is for us. You're rutstuck, and we're giving you a push.”

“I...I don't think I'm ready!” he said in a high, panicked voice. Karkat stared at him in concern; he looked like he was going to start hyperventilating at any moment. “You discussed this with Tavros?”

“Of _course_ we did,” Terezi said, with a twitch of the eyebrows that was her equivalent of an eye-roll. “He was worried for you, but we convinced him it was for the best. He's not ready to take that road yet himself, though, so you still have Rose and Jade to fall back on.”

“But...Rose is probably still mad at me! And Jade and Tavros are in mourning! I can't bother them right now!”

“Oh, right. Perhaps you _don't_ have any breathing room,” she continued. “Guess you won't get to take baby steps after all!”

“Dave! I can't do this! Please, _please_ , don't leave me!” John had stood up, his tall form hunched over and his blue eyes unseeing as they dilated with panic. Terezi slipped from her matesprit's lap so the man could approach his friend and clap his hands over his shoulders.

“I'm not _leaving_ you, John! You're my best bro, and you always will be. But you have a problem, and we've been irresponsible to let it go on this long. It's time you considered your alternatives.” He looked up at the lady troll and she nodded. Slipping in beside the distraught detective, she snaked an arm around him and pulled him aside.

“Come with me, my crime-fighting colleague. Let's have a private discussion.” She directed him toward his never-used bedroom and he let himself be led, staring blankly at the floor. Karkat rose uncertainly, but Dave waved to him to sit back down.

“Relax, man, she's not going to hurt him. They're just going to have a talk. About quadrants.”

The troll watched them go, not entirely sure that made him feel any better.

* * *

“This was all your idea, wasn't it?” John sniffled. He stared at her balefully with bloodshot eyes, trying to summon his anger in order to keep from breaking down.

“Do you hate me, John?” she inquired, as if the thought pleased her.

“At the moment?” he asked with a bark of hysterical laughter. “I think I _could_.”

“Good,” she hissed long and low, still smiling like a shark. “Hold on to that feeling.”

“Are...are you trying to make me your kismesis or something?” he asked doubtfully.

Laughter crackled through the tense air. “Nothing so black as that,” she reassured him. Brushing the dust off the bed covers, she took a seat and patted the mattress. Hesitantly, he sat down beside her. “Have you ever considered finding yourself a matesprit, John? It's really a wonderful thing to have.”

He shuddered, rubbing his upper arms. “ _No_. I'm sure Dave's already told you how I feel about...concupiscence.”

“Hmmm.” She studied him long and hard. “What is it about your three human friends that make them the only ones eligible to help you with your sleeping problem?”

“What do you mean? They've been there since the beginning. We share the same experience, the same pain. They understand me like no one else can. I trust them.”

“And they trust you, right?”

“I...yes?”

“Relax, it wasn't a trick question. So, you won't get a matesprit because you're afraid you'll turn out like your father.”

“Well, not exactl--”

“Yeah, yeah, it's all subconscious psycho-malarkey. But at the heart of it, you just don't want to become a heartless bastard who lures innocently trusting people into letting him in their beds so he can use them for his own selfish purposes.”

“Yeah.”

She stared at him. He stared back. She grinned the snaggle-toothed smile of the victorious conqueror. As if he was stuck in slow motion, John's eyes gradually widened, his face growing pale, then green. Sound seemed to disappear as the world collapsed around him, the sole victim of his own personal apocalypse.

John leaped to his feet, stumbling away from her on wobbly legs until he crashed into the dresser. He covered his mouth as if he was going to be sick, then clutched his head instead. “What are you doing to me?!” he cried. “ _What have you done?!_ ”

“Just opening your eyes a bit, John! How's the world look now that you can see clearly?”

“Oh, gog!” He collapsed, drawing his knees to forehead. “What have I been doing?”

“Avoiding the solution by embracing the problem, I'd say.”

John looked up at her, revealing that he'd finally lost the last thread of his control and tears were running down his cheeks. “What do you mean?” he sobbed.

“If you really want to keep from becoming your father's son, you need to do what he _didn't_ do, not just avoid what he did!” She stood up, dusted off her professional skirt, and knelt down beside the oftentimes cruelly logical man that she had broken with just a few sentences. It was nothing new considering her line of work, but she usually toned it down before she inflicted her own cruel talents on her friends. “You need to fall in love, my dear detective. Get yourself a matesprit and devote yourself to them. Never stray, never lie, and never leave. _That's_ how you'll avoid turning into the criminal he was. And I think you'll be a whole lot happier, too.”

John couldn't stop shivering, but the tears had stopped. “But how do I find someone that can put up with me? I'm a jerk even to people I _do_ care about, Terezi, I'm well aware of that. And even if I do find a person who isn't scared off by my personality, how can _I_ put up with _them?_ Most people are so boring, and if they're _not_ then I'll probably get them arrested. And _love?_ I don't know if I'm even capable of that...”

“You love your friends. You feel safe enough to let them in your heart because you trust them. Try starting out simple! Someone you get along with, someone you can count on. Does anyone come to mind?”

“Nothing comes to mind. I'm kind of in shock, here.”

Terezi gave a soft laugh, much gentler than the other ones she'd been spouting all evening. Leaning forward a little closer, she placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered into his ear.

“Tell me, John. Do you trust the man who guards your life?”

* * *


	3. The Second Night

Karkat was deeply curious to know what his old matesprit had said to his new charge to leave him looking like a man who'd seen a ghost. When they'd finally emerged from the bedroom, John was pale and distracted, barely even absorbing their farewells as Terezi and Dave left. He sat on the sofa, hands in his lap and staring vacantly like a man who'd just lost everything he owned.

“Hey,” Karkat said, sitting down beside him. No response. Slightly hesitantly, he reached an arm out and placed it on his shoulder. “Hey,” he said again, giving the human a little shake. Blue eyes turned to face him, once again wide and unguarded like a child's. Damn those eyes! Every time John did that, the troll felt an inappropriate stirring of pity. “Are you okay? What did that witch do to you?”

John gave a little laugh that did not match his face _at all_. “Pulled me kicking and screaming from my rut and set me down a new path whether I wanted it or not, I think.” He stared at his hands on his lap. “I don't want to talk about it yet.”

“Oh. Okay. Yeah, don't... don't push yourself on my account. Just do what you need to do to pull yourself back together.”

“What I need...” he trailed off, raising his head and settling his gaze on something across the room. The two windows that flanked the polished piano were filled with blackness and soft lantern-light, and John rose to take his seat between them, long fingers gently opening the fall that protected the ivory keys. A gentle note filled the air with his first touch, then another, and more, until the small, quiet apartment was resounding with forlorn music.

Karkat watched in fascination for a while. Trolls rarely learned to play instruments, so it was strange to see the sounds being conjured at will from one, instead of a prerecording coming through speakers. It was a little sad, though, since the music mirrored his mood, painting a rather personal picture of how he was feeling now. It flitted from despairing to angry, from confused to fearful, from harsh clashing notes that grated the ears to soft, wandering melodies that almost tugged the heartstrings.

After a while, Karkat leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes. As long as the music was playing he knew John was safe, and it would be best if he caught a few power-naps whenever he could. Things weren't looking too promising in the sleep department, and a tired, groggy bodyguard would be of no use to anyone.

He drifted lightly into the realm of sleep, chased by the specters that were haunting John's soul.

* * *

The moment silence filled the apartment, Karkat stirred and opened his eyes. John had closed the lid softly and was rising to his feet, moving to recollect the things on the coffee table.

“Feeling any better?” the troll asked cautiously.

“A bit. Enough to get back to work, anyway. It's plenty late to start hunting through the night crowd. Time for some legwork.”

“Joy.” He rose to his feet and followed the detective out the door, not looking forward to another round of surveying morons for clues. “Where to first?”

'First' turned out to be the Can City Observatory. The title was meant to be taken literally; the spindly tower was located right in the middle of the metropolis, useless for viewing stars. It was created for observing the city itself. Like the reflection of a clear night sky in a pool of water, the view at the top was a breathtaking display of artificial constellations. The tower served no other purpose and the main rooms were free to enter.

John was silent for a while, staring listlessly out the wide glass panels into the darkness. Karkat was starting to get a little worried.

“Are you... John Egbert? The detective?”

The man in question turned to look at the woman who had approached him. A meek-looking human in her late-twenties, brown of hair and freckled of face, was studying him uncertainly with large, green eyes.

“I am,” he responded coolly, slipping so easily back into his normal demeanor that Karkat felt a little foolish. “You must be an acquaintance of the late Mossa Volantis.”

“Y-yeah!” she said, startled but pleased. “Does that mean you're looking into her death?”

“Among others, yes. May I speak with you for a while?”

“Ah, yes! Please.” She took a seat on one of the benches that looked out across the city, waiting for John and his companion to do the same. “I haven't heard anything more from the police since their first investigation. I feel so helpless! Have they found anything at all?”

“Not to my knowledge. That's why I'm here,” he said, pulling out his pad of paper and pen. “What's your name and relation to the deceased?”

“Isabeth Callahan. Me and a couple other girls were her drinking buddies. None of us could hold a candle to her, though. She was a fish.”

“A royal blood?” Karkat asked, startled.

“Wha—no, she was yellow. I meant she was perpetually swimming in liquor.”

“Oh.”

“We liked to come up here with a few bottles during the dead hours, when most humans have given up and gone to bed and most trolls are still working. Had the place all to ourselves, usually. Mossa was always here first, though. She liked to get a head start.”

“I see,” John murmured, his pen flowing across the paper. “And that was how you and your friends were the first to discover the body.”

Isabeth shuddered. “Yeah. Me and Sarah and Cloresh and... Junipa.” She hesitated on the last name, sending Karkat instantly on alert.

“Will any of them be by tonight?”

“Probably not. After that, our drinking party kind of... broke up.”

Karkat's eyebrow twitched. John made more scribbles on his notepad. “What can you tell me about Ms. Volantis?”

“She was one of those really cool types, you know? Always had the most amazing stories to tell, and you were never quite sure if she was telling the truth or making it all up. Smooth. Nothing ever seemed to get under her skin; she took the world in her stride. She still didn't take any grief, though. If someone started to hassle us girls, she could have them in a headlock with her hair sticks jabbing them in the neck in the blink of an eye. Then she would just send them on their way with a uncaring wave, her point made. I thought she was invincible... but... when we found her, those hair sticks were...” she trailed off.

“I know,” John said simply. She nodded shakily, glad she didn't have to continue. “About those amazing stories of hers—did any of them involve the Midnight Crew or the Felt?”

She looked up, apprehensive. “Yeah, some of them did.”

“Tell me about those tales.”

“Well... there was one where she said she watched a shootout between those two gangs from right outside her window; she lived in a pretty bad part of town, so it's possible she was telling the truth. And there was another where she swears up and down she saw Doc Scratch and Diamonds Droog walking out of the same suit shop, looking like they'd beat the crap out of each other.”

Karkat snickered, startling her. “Sorry,” he apologized. “That one's probably true. Those two do a much better job of hiding it than Ja—Slick and Snowman, but they've been head over heels in spades for almost as long.”

“How does _that_ work?” John asked skeptically. “Doc Scratch doesn't even have lips.”

“I don't think it's each other's _faces_ they're interested in,” the troll said with a smirk. John grimaced and Isabeth blushed.

“Anyway,” the detective said with a cough, “did she have any tales where she actually _interacted_ with the mobs?”

The young woman blinked, then shook her head. “None that I heard, anyway. Junipa might know more about that, she's known Mossa for the longest.”

“I see. Where might I be able to find her?”

“Um. I don't know where she hangs out now. Sorry.”

“That's quite alright, I'm sure her contact information is somewhere in the police file. Thank you for your help, I won't keep you any longer. We must be on our way.”

“O-oh, okay. It was nice to meet you, Detective Egbert. Good luck on solving everything.”

“Thank you, Miss Callahan.” He departed for the elevators without looking back.

It was a long ride to the ground. Karkat peered at John's notes as he shuffled the pad closed and slipped it back into his captchalogue. “Was that a picture of a fish in a martini glass?” he asked incredulously.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. Timid people like her feel more talkative when they get the impression they're saying something important enough for you to write down. If you're just memorizing it, they think you're not really listening.”

“I... guess that makes sense. Still sounds like a dick move, but whatever. Are you going to hunt down Miss Timid's ex now?”

“No, I—what?”

Karkat made a whistling noise like a bomb falling as he passed his hand over his head. John burst into laughter and shoved the troll into the elevator wall. “Shut up, shorty!”

“Bet this is quite the role reversal for you, isn't it.”

“Oh, you have no idea!”

“Speaking of betting, you still owe me 10 boondollars.”

John snickered, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “Damn, you remembered.”

“You're not getting out of it that easily. Cough up the cash, you blue-eyed freak.”

He grinned. “I've been called a freak many times before, but never for that! You got a problem with my eyes?”

Karkat blushed and turned defensive. “Wha—no! They're just weird. Silly humans and your multi-colored eyes.”

“Silly trolls and your multi-colored blood,” John said smugly in return. Karkat stuck his tongue out childishly, unable to come up with a suitable comeback. The elevator came to a stop and opened its doors, releasing the two men back onto the street.

“So if you're not going after this Junipa chick right now, where are we headed next?”

“I thought we'd check out the last crime scene we haven't visited yet. I still can't shake the impression that I'm barking up the wrong tree. Perhaps we'll finally find the right one at the park.”

“As long as we don't run into another fight.”

“I almost wouldn't mind!”

“You say that _now_...”

“Heh heh.”

* * *

 _This_ park was much more popular at night than the other one. Not surprising, considering it was located in a part of town more heavily populated by trolls. Lovers young and old were strolling around the large lake that served as its focal point, walking hand in hand and admiring the glimmer of lights over the water. Troll children were throwing crumbs to the fluorescent fish that darted hungrily under the inky black surface.

So was Diamonds Droog.

John and Karkat exchanged leery-eyed glances. The tall, elegantly dressed carapace was most definitely relaxing on one of the park-benches that overlooked the water, every now and then flinging out a few pieces of bread. He looked up after a few moments, spotted them staring, and gave them an amused little smile before turning back to his cigarette.

John couldn't resist. Ignoring Karkat's sputtered protests, he strode forward and came to a stop behind the bench. “What are you up to, Droog?”

“Isn't it obvious?” He pointed to the little paper sack beside him, from a nearby sandwich shop. “Lunch break.”

John narrowed his eyes. “Really. Here, at the location of a murder scene?”

A glossy black hand gestured around the park. “All those other people are here too, but I don't see you accusing _them_ of anything. Besides, that murder was in a different part of the park.”

“And you know this because...?”

“I read the news, dear detective. Why don't you take a seat, instead of lurking behind me?”

“I think not.”

“Oh come now, I'm not about to attack you in a place like this. Have your bodyguard sit between us if you like.” He slid down to one end of the bench, leaving plenty of room for two more. “It's been such a long time, Little Vantas. Nice suit. Maryalonde, isn't it? You've come up in the world.”

Karkat sneered at him, looking irritated. John deigned to sit down on the very edge of the bench, the troll moving to take his previous position of looming from behind.

“Dreadful business, isn't it? All these murders. So messy. So... inefficient. But that's to be expected, after all.” He smirked at John's scowl.

“First you claim to have nothing to do with them, now you hint that you know something. Which one is it?”

The scofflaw blew a ring of smoke his way. “Both.”

The human clenched his fists. “So the Midnight Crew _is_ involved.”

“No more so then we are involved in _everything_ that goes on in this city.”

“You provided the murderer with something.”

“Yes.”

“Something that his killing spree wouldn't be possible without.”

“Well... not as effectively, anyway.”

“You know who the murderer is, and why they're doing this!”

“Indeed.”

John glared daggers at him, which DD effortlessly ignored. If anything, it made him even more insufferable.

“You can't figure it out, can you? Poor little genius, you don't have a _clue_. I bet it just tears you up, doesn't it, to know that someone else has all the answers.” He leaned toward the detective, eliciting a warning growl from his bodyguard. “You can have them, you know. I can tell you who it is, and how it's done, and for what reason. Oh, how you'll curse when you realize how obvious the solution is! I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually. But how many more people will die while you fumble around?”

John's face grew both paler and redder as his hands shook with impotent fury. “And all I have to do to make you spill your secrets is sell my soul to the Midnight Crew, huh?” he hissed.

“You've got it.”

“Absolutely not. _Never_. Not even an option!” He leaped to his feet, the very image of a scalded cat. “I _will_ figure this out myself!”

“Suit yourself. I did hope we could do this the business-like way, but apparently not.” DD rose to his feet as well, readjusting his tie and brushing a few crumbs from his lapels. He picked up the sandwich bag and placed it properly in a nearby trash bin. “Time for me to return to work. If you change your mind, feel free to get in touch. In the meantime, though,” he warned, flashing them a dark little half-smile as he turned away, “ _watch your back_.”

And with that he casually walked away, easily disappearing into the dark of night.

John gritted his teeth, hunched over and gripping his elbows as he stared at the ground with white-rimmed eyes. Karkat studied him with concern. “Don't let him get to you. You did the right thing.”

“Did I? The killer's been moving faster lately. I wouldn't be surprised if there's another dead by morning, and I'm no closer to finding him now then I was when I started! What if it's another person I know?”

“Calm down, John! You're no help to anyone like this. You just had a conversation with someone who knows the truth. Did he let anything slip?”

The detective took a deep, shaky breath and closed his eyes. “Well... he did tell us that the murderer's been buying something that makes him a more effective killer.”

“Good. That's good! Let's think about that, then. What does the Midnight Crew sell?”

“Weapons. Drugs. Stolen artifacts.”

Karkat took a deep breath. “Handguns, automatics, sniper rifles, axes, maces, clubs, swords, rapiers, butterfly knives, switchblades, knuckle dusters, explosives, wands, detoxified sopor slime, mind honey, alcohol--”

“Wands?”

“Yeah. Made from the wing-bones of angels or the dried tentacles of horrorterrors. They're a pretty rare item, obviously, and they grant the wielder control of magic if the wand accepts them.”

“Magic...” he trailed off, looking thoughtful. “I hadn't considered that. I wonder if magic would allow you to restrain a person without leaving a mark? Or enchant even the mentally resistant?”

The troll sighed with relief, glad to see the detective back to normal. “I know a guy who has one. A royal-blood; he used to talk all the time about wiping out the lesser castes. You want to look him up?”

“I think we should. But first, while we're still here, let's check out the scene of the murder.”

A brisk spring back in his steps, they headed for the densely wooded section of the park. Every now and then, John gave a sidelong glance at his companion, until Karkat finally shot him a questioning look.

“It's just... how did I ever get by without you?”

The troll was immediately flustered. “You're out-of-sorts right now, that's all! This case is touching unusually close to home, and your friends are shaking up your old routine. When things calm down and this election is over, you'll be kicking me out the door in no time, back to your old self.”

“Hmmm.” He gave his friend an odd, considering look. “I wonder about that.”

* * *

There was a body sprawled under the trees.

It took Karkat a moment to tell his racing heart to calm the fuck down—the body was sleeping, not dead. It was a human with long black hair tied in a braid, a wildlife book under his head. John prodded him with his foot, stirring him slowly to consciousness.

“Lunis?” he slurred, blinking in the darkness.

“No. Detective Egbert. Is there any particular reason you're sleeping at the site of a violent murder?”

“I got tired?”

John was silent, and only his bodyguard's keen night vision detected the way he had closed his eyes with a sigh. “But why are you resting _here_ , Mr...?”

“Oh. Tristan Fisher. This is one of the best spots to view the pink-spotted coon-badger. Which is totally a wild, angry beast and _not at all_ a relatively harmless, cute fluffy animal.” He grinned as he said it, and John had the feeling it was an often-told joke. “It's their mating season, and Lunis and I wouldn't miss it for the world.” His voice grew softer. “Aven would have wanted it that way.”

“I see. You're all nature lovers?”

“You could say that. Aven would claim that he was a trophy hunter, out to prove his mettle against any fierce creature that wanted a taste of his pink machete, but you know. Semantics.”

“Pink... machete.”

“I'm kidding. They don't come in that color.”

“Right.”

“You said you're a detective?”

“I did.”

“Does that mean you're investigating his death?”

“That would be a fair assumption, yes.”

“Okay, cool. So, um. Have you found anything?”

“Nothing conclusive. Perhaps you can help me with that?”

“Sure, I can try! I've been following the news about the other deaths, poor saps. It'd be nice if no one else had to die.”

“You knew Aven Scree well. Had he ever met any of the other victims, or did you notice anything in common between them?”

“Well... no. It's a big city, after all, and the news didn't mention much about the their hobbies, either.”

“Did Mr. Scree ever have any dealings with the mobs?”

“He bought his machete from a shop known to be supplied by the Midnight Crew. That's about it, as far as I know.”

“Well, thank you anyway. I didn't expect to find much here, but it doesn't hurt to be thorough. I'll take my leave, then.”

“Awesome. I'll just--” he yawned, “--go back to waiting for my girlfriend, then.” He flopped back onto the grass and stared up at the night sky through the even darker leaves. “Give that predator a good chase, man.”

John rolled his eyes as they walked away. Five minutes of tripping over roots and running into spiderwebs later, they were back in the park's main clearing.

“So. To Eridan Ampora's place?”

“If that's his name. Is he on the night shift?”

“Yup. He and Vriska Serket like to refer to themselves as 'proper trolls.' They don't do business during the day.”

“Oh hey, I know Vriska! I've investigated her on suspicions of mind-control before. Got her off the hook by proving that the level of control she was accused of performing was impossible on a human without the enhancement of mind honey, and she was clean. I like Vriska, she's a hoot!”

“ _Seriously?_ You have bizarre tastes.”

“Heh heh heh!”

They exited the park, hitting the streets. “Eridan doesn't live far from here, we can walk.”

“Good. I don't want to put myself at the mercy of another easily intimidated taxi-driver.”

“Ah. Noticed our tail, did you?”

“Yup. That's Clubs Deuce, isn't it?”

“That'd be the one. He's not very bright, it should be easy enough to give him the slip. What all do you have in that disguise kit of yours?”

John grinned. Ever-so-casually, the two of them stepped inside the doors of a movie theater, bolting for the restrooms as soon as they were out of sight from the street. Stepping up to the long row of mirrors and sinks, the detective pulled out his bag of tricks and dug around inside it.

“Take off your coat,” he ordered as he pulled out a long black wig. Curious, the troll did as he was told, draping it over his arm. John placed the wig over the troll's shaggy hair and around his horns, tugging it in place and arranging the locks to frame his face. “There, that's good.” Pulling out a pretty but unmemorable scarf, he wrapped it around Karkat's waist like a belt and tied it off at his side, leaving plenty of length on the ends so it would flow and sway like a skirt. The troll froze as John's hands moved around his body, but he was mercifully oblivious.

Straightening up, the human turned back to his bag, pulling out a headband with a very ordinary looking pair of troll-horns attached. He placed it on his own head, tousling his hair over the band to hide it. Next out came a canister of gray powder and a large make-up brush. “This will do from a distance,” he remarked as he temporarily removed his glasses to dowse his face with the ashen color. “If we had more time I'd use the good stuff, and my orange and black contacts. Here, put this on.” He passed him a tube of lipstick.

Karkat made a face as he stared at the offending product. “I don't know how.”

“Really? You never learned disguises at the FBI?”

“Sorry, I must have skipped the day they were covering how to crossdress properly.”

John grinned as he put his powder and brush away. “Here, let me do it, then.” And before the troll could object, his chin had been captured by a firm hand and a pair of studious eyes were focused very intently on his lips.

If he'd felt paralyzed before, that was nothing compared to now. Wide orange-rimmed eyes stared in horrified fascination as John leaned in, unaware of the way he was parting his lips in an unconscious effort to get Karkat to do the same. Like a painter with a brush, he gingerly applied the dark shade of purple over the troll's black lips, creating the illusion that they were fuller and more feminine. If he even noticed the way the face in his grip grew warmer and warmer, he chose not to comment.

“There, perfect!” he declared, finally leaning back. The agent dared to breath again and darted a look in the mirror. It wasn't _too_ bad. John put on a pair of gray gloves, captchalogued everything else, and liberated Karkat of the coat he was holding, slinging it over his shoulder instead. There was no way it would fit him, but who could tell when he was carrying it instead of wearing it? “How do I look?”

“Like a troll with a skin condition.”

“Good enough. Let's go!” Checking to make sure no one would notice a woman coming out of the men's bathroom, John gave the all clear and they slipped out of the theater. He held out his free arm in an odd gesture that took a moment for Karkat to interpret. With a soft growl and a roll of his eyes, the troll wrapped his hands around it and they strolled away, two young lovers out for a date.

When they had a chance to glance back without being obvious, they spotted CD across the street, still watching the theater entrance intently. Karkat even remembered to raise the pitch of his voice, and their shared laughter echoed through the colorful night.

* * *

“Wait, we can't go in like this!”

“Hmm? Why not, we'll have to change right back when it's time to leave.”

“Because! This guy is really touchy, he'd probably take offense to your half-assed troll costume. Also, it's been forever since I've seen him, I don't want _this_ to be his first impression!”

“Aww, did Mr. Ampora tease you when you were little?”

“N-no! Shut up!”

They were standing in front of a ridiculously expensive looking manor, guarded by a wrought iron fence zig-zagged with wave designs. The lawn was filled with deep pools of water and interconnecting streams, which appeared to lead into the house itself. There was no doubt that an aquatic troll lived there; one with lots and lots of money.

“Must be nice to be a royal,” John remarked.

“Bah, he'd be destitute without Vriska. She's the one with all the irons in the fire.”

“I heard that,” crackled the intercom, making them jump. “Okay, who the fuck are you an' why are you shoaling at my gate?”

“Detective Egbert and Agent Vantas, come to seek your expertise on the use of wands. Please pardon our disguises, it's a long story.”

There was a moment of silence. “Kar? Is that you?”

The troll stepped forward. “Yes, asshole, how many FBI agents named Vantas do you know?”

“What are you wearin'?”

“It's a _disguise_ , you vacuous moron, weren't you _listening?_ ”

“Yeah, that's definitely you. _Fine_ , you might as well come in.” The gate unlocked and opened on its own, the path before them lighting up. The two exchanged glances.

“He's got a thing for theatrics,” Karkat explained with a roll of his eyes.

The inside of Eridan's home was no less pretentious. The streams did indeed flow indoors, and great marble staircases and bridges abounded, as well as numerous statues of wizards, stuffed sea monsters, and displays of spears, dart guns, and harpoons. The troll himself was a broad-shouldered man with horns like lightning bolts, a shock of purple hair, gold rings on every finger, and the most old-fashioned pair of glasses John had ever seen. Right now he was staring at the shorter troll, his lips twitching in humor.

“Not a bad look for you, Kar. You know, I've got some outfits from my teenage years that would look pretty good on you.”

Karkat ripped the wig off in irritation, hanging it by the door with his suit coat. “No thanks, fish freak, I don't want to be reminded of your 'Miss March' phase.”

“Why not? I was fuckin' hot! Speakin' of which...” he eyeballed John up and down in a very blatant manner. “What did you say your name was again?”

“John. Egbert. Detective John Egbert.” Karkat could tell his friend was already getting uncomfortable.

“Right, right. Come to see me about my 'wands,' wasn't it?” He wrapped a muscular arm around John's shoulders, instantly setting Karkat's hackles on edge. “Why don't we just step into the parlor over here.” He led the two of them into a room off the side, much smaller and cozier than the entrance hall had been. A female troll was already there, relaxed across a couch with a laptop. She looked up as they came in, blinked for a moment, then sat up with a grin.

“John, is that you?”

“Vriska? What are you doing here?”

“Do I need a reason to hang out with my lover?”

“You two are _still_ together?” Karkat butted in, his nose wrinkled in disgusted amazement.

“Shocking, I know. He's so pathetic, isn't he? So much so that I can never decide if I hate him or pity him more.”

Eridan made a scoffing noise. “What are you talkin' about, bitch? You're the one who came cryin' to me when Tavros grew a pair an' surrounded himself with hornet sentries.”

“Excuse me?” she rose to her feet, setting her computer down on the ornate glass table and sashaying towards him with menace in her steps. “I seem to recall a certain little jellyfish blubbering on my shoulder about how he lost his only quadrant and couldn't I fill _just one_ for him?”

Eridan bared his fangs in a snarl and Vriska sneered right back at him. For a moment Karkat thought they were going to break out into a fight and/or sloppy hate kisses right there, but instead they turned, as one, to face the dark-haired human.

“So, John,” Vriska said calmly, as if nothing at all had happened, “nice makeup.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry it's not very good. I didn't have time to do a proper job of it,” he said sheepishly.

“No no, it looks great! I must admit, I never realized what an attractive troll you could have been.” She smiled, and suddenly John felt nervous.

“Um. Thank you?” His eyes darted from troll to troll as they moved to either side of him, each taking an arm.

“Come sit down, 'Detective John Egbert.' I can tell you all your human heart organ desires to know about... wands.” They directed him to the sofa and pushed him down, both taking the rest of the space and leaving poor Karkat to sit on the loveseat facing opposite.

  


“That wasn't meant to be a euphemism, j-just so you know,” he stuttered, tensing up as their hands trailed over his arms.

“Of _course_ not,” Vriska purred. “What exactly is it that you want to know?”

“What are they capable of? Can they achieve the effects seen in the recent murders?”

They mercifully paused their sensual tortures, exchanging glances with each other. With identical sighs, they rose and moved over to one of the display-covered walls, each coming to a stop in front of a sensor panel located at opposing corners. They peered into the panels at the same time, a light scanning their eyes. A moment later and a small vault door opened in the center of the wall, revealing a nasty looking harpoon gun and a slender white wand.

“Nifty, huh?” Vriska remarked at their puzzled looks. “Equius made it for us. The safe can't be opened unless it scans us both at the same time. Oh, and we both have to be alive. And calm. There's another one at my place; it holds my Fluorite Octet and Magic Cue Ball. I guess you could say it's our friends' insurance that we don't destroy the city when we have a spat.”

“I... see,” John said apprehensively as Eridan removed the rare item from the vault. “When was the last time you had the wand out?”

“See for yourself,” Eridan said with a gesture to his control panel. “The computer keeps a record a' each time the vault is opened.”

Gingerly skirting around the eccentric troll and his magical weapon, John peered at the glass display. The last date was several months ago, well before the murders had begun. Well, at least that meant this particular wand was out of the realm of possibility. Satisfied, John returned to the circle of leather furniture, this time ducking out from their clutches and taking a seat by Karkat instead. The two trolls smirked at his efforts before returning to the serious business at hand.

“So, what effects are you lookin' for, exactly? The news articles don't go into much detail.”

“Restraining a person without leaving a mark, or enchanting a person into holding still, even those with high psychic resistance.”

The troll prince frowned. “That's not really their specialty. They're mostly good at blowin' shit up.” He waved the wand toward them, heedless of the way Karkat snarled as the glass table began to bubble and melt.

“Hey!” Vriska snapped, just barely catching her laptop before it fell into the steaming pile of goop.

“As you can see, it's great at destruction!” He twirled the wand over the melting glass and it flowed upwards into a stalagmite. Another twist and a ray of light wrapped around the sculpture like a snake, snapping it off of the floor and lifting it into the air. “With some concentration I can get a telekinetic effect, but...” The light squeezed, causing the glass lance to snap into several pieces. “...the slightest slip and it goes back to its true nature.”

“I see,” John said, unconsciously leaning against his bodyguard. “That would certainly make it difficult to match the method used by the murderer, unless he has amazing focus. Or an accomplice.” He cocked an eyebrow at the two of them, but they just grinned.

“It makes me grateful for our friends' paranoia, then, if only for the alibi it brings.”

John sighed. “Do you know of anyone else who owns one of these?”

The muscular troll waved the wand casually, studying the glowing trail it left. “Not in this city. Wands can sense each other, but I haven't felt another one close by for years. Someone used to own one a' the dark kind, but only for a few weeks. Probably couldn't handle the dreams of horrorterrors it brought.”

The detective nodded. That sounded about right to match with Rose's experience, which she refused to talk about. That pretty much clenched it, then. Assuming Eridan was being honest, then wands weren't the answer to the method mystery.

“Well, thank you for answering my questions. It was quite helpful, if disheartening.”

“Oh, uh, no prob,” Eridan replied, carefully placing the wand back in its pedestal and closing the vault door. The echoing sound of mechanics and bars locking filled the air as he turned back. “Feel free to drop by any time, if you want.”

“Yes, don't be such a workaholic, John! You can come by for pleasure, too, you know. We don't bite! Unless you're into that sort of thing...”

John gave a nervous titter of a laugh, then coughed. “Really, I need to get back on the case, so we should get going!” He rose to his feet and let himself be escorted to the entrance door, not-so-subtly keeping Karkat between him and his hosts. “It was good to see you again, Ms. Serket, nice to meet you Mr. Ampora, but duty calls!”

“Ain't you forgettin' somethin'?” Eridan pointed out.

“What? Oh, our stuff.” He rescued the wig from its hook and reapplied it to Karkat's head before tossing the coat over his shoulder again.

“That reminds me, Karkat; nice lipstick,” Vriska smirked. “It's a good shade for you.”

“Fuck you, spiderbreath,” the shorter troll growled. She laughed and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“ _Nice catch! However did you net him?_ ”

John dragged the sputtering troll out the door as soon as it was open, beating a hasty retreat for the gates. They were starting to look less like iron wrought waves and more like webs, at this point.

* * *

“Unbelievable!” Karkat griped for the umpteenth time. “And they call themselves proper trolls! I've never seen such blatant flirting for a concupiscent threesome. No wonder those two can't find an auspistice!”

“Uh-huh,” John agreed numbly. The few stars visible in the city sky were gradually disappearing with the first hints of the approaching dawn. Despite the distance, they had decided to walk back to John's apartment, using the time to vent and think. Or at least, for Karkat to vent and John to space out.

“I still can't believe those two haven't split up yet. Their relationship is even more volatile than Equius and Aradia's was! Those two at least had the decency to flip back and forth between quadrants. I think Eridan and Vriska are actually trying to occupy both of them at the same time!”

“Perhaps that's why they're still together,” John murmured half-heartedly. “Maybe that's what they need.”

“That's just... that's...” Karkat trailed off, looking thoughtful. “That's... pretty insightful, actually. I can't believe _you_ came up with it.”

“Came up with what?” he asked, bleary eyes staring straight ahead at nothing in particular.

“You... have no idea what you just said, do you?”

“Nope. Gog, I'm tired. Emotionally, mentally, um... the other ones...”

“Physically?”

“Yeah, that one. It's been a long day. And night. And I'm tired. And there is a giant in front of my apartment.” They peered around the corner, staring at the enormous black carapace that was camped out on his doorstep.

“That's Hearts Boxcars,” Karkat confirmed. “I guess he decided that if you were going to disappear, he would just wait where you were likely to show up. He believes in the direct approach.”

“But he's _right there_. Why would I approach if I could see him?”

“No one ever said he thought his plans all the way through.”

“Huh. Well. Let's go in the back, then, shall we?”

“Aren't you on the second floor?”

“Yup.”

They took a circuitous route around to the narrow street leading up to the rear of his apartment. Pulling down the fire escape, John led the way up to his kitchen window, which slid open easily.

“You don't lock it?” Karkat asked incredulously.

“It's more convenient for me this way. Give me a second, I need to deactivate the booby-trap.”

“The b—okay, never mind. That _does_ seem more your style.”

“Doesn't it?” A moment later he gave the all clear and they clambered inside, across the sink. “There's no window in the bathroom, we can turn on the light there. Let's get cleaned up.”

“Thank gog, I've had enough humiliation for one night.” He followed the human into his tiny facilities, taking a seat on the lid of his load gaper. John closed the door and turned on the light, blinking in the sudden brightness. “Here, have your stupid crap,” Karkat continued, already divested of the wig and scarf.

“Ah, thanks.” He removed his fake horns and gloves and catpchalogued the lot before opening up a small container sitting on the bathroom sink. “Here, this'll get the lipstick off,” he said as he passed a moist cloth over. He took another for himself and wiped it across his gray face, revealing the pale color beneath.

The troll rubbed his lips clean furiously, glad to finally get his dignity back. “Did I get it all?” he asked, shoving John aside to get a glimpse in the tiny mirror.

“Looks like.” The detective pulled out another cloth, removing the last remaining streaks of powder before elbowing his way back, splashing his face with cold water and dabbing it dry. “Man, I hate those things,” he muttered as he tossed the disposable wipes in the trash. “Even the unscented ones stink.”

“Well, as long as _you_ were inconvenienced _too_...” Karkat grumbled. John flipped off the light and opened the door, allowing them to stumble out into the hall. A faint dawn glow was illuminating the apartment now, reminding them of just how long they'd been up. Karkat leaned against the wall of the dark, narrow corridor with a sigh, watching as John struck a similar pose opposite of him.

“So,” the troll said after a few minutes of watching the light brighten.

“So?”

“What do we do now?”

“We make coffee.”

Karkat laughed, shaking his head. John didn't move, instead looking like he was steeling his nerve for something.

“Unless...” he began hesitantly, then stopped.

“Unless what?”

John rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably and looked away. “Just. Um. Instead of coffee, would could try, you know. Sleeping.”

Orange and black eyes stared unblinkingly at the awkwardly nervous man. “I thought you couldn't sleep alone.”

“I can't! That's why, I guess, what I'm asking is, um...” He swallowed, shifted from foot to foot, and finally turned to face him, blue eyes peering out from under dark lashes. “Can I sleep with you?”

Karkat finally blinked. And blinked again. His eyes grew wider and his breath hitched as a brilliant red flush flamed across his face.

“I'm not proposing anything!” John rushed to clarify. “I just thought, you know, I trust you, and you're my bodyguard, and we're both tired and not running at our peak, and it would be well within your job description to look after my mental well-being as well as my safety if you wanted to justify it! That's all, I promise!”

Contrary to John's expectation, his run-on backpedaling did not calm the troll down. In fact, it made his eyes narrow and his expression darken considerably as the blood drained from his face. His hands clenched at his sides as he bared his teeth.

“Really. That's all, huh?”

“Um. Yes? Maybe? Maybe I shouldn't have brought this up at all. Can we just pretend I didn't say any--”

POW!

John was absolutely stunned to find himself on the floor, cradling his sore jaw and staring up at the angry troll with a bewildered, shocked look. Karkat growled, refusing to let himself be swayed by those childlike eyes this time.

“Sorry, but no one's crawling into _my_ bed without filling a quadrant first. And I hate to break it to you, but the position of moirail has already been taken! What a shame, there's no quadrant for 'Custodial Substitute,' or 'Professionals with Benefits!'” He stormed away in a huff, leaving the clueless detective sprawled across the hallway.

Five minutes later he reappeared, thrust an ice pack and a mug of coffee into John's hands, and stomped away again.

* * *


	4. The Third Day

John had eventually got his feet under him and slunk back into the sitting room, so now the two of them were sitting on opposite sides of the coffee table, watching the morning sun slowly creep down the walls. The silence was incredibly uncomfortable. Every now and then their eyes wandered over to each other, only to quickly look away if they got caught. After a couple of times of this, Karkat shifted and John cleared his throat.

“Sorry,” they both said at the same time.

Surprised, they finally looked at each other properly. “What are _you_ apologizing for?” Karkat growled. “I'm your bodyguard, yet _I'm_ the one who gave you your only injury!”

“No, you had every right!” John said emphatically. “I can't believe I said that. Terezi was completely right about me.” The pale detective rubbed his arms, forehead creased in a troubled look.

“Right about what?”

“That I'm just like my father, despite all my efforts. Just because I keep my pants on doesn't change the fact that I'm climbing into other people's beds for my own selfish reasons. I'm nothing but a leech, and now I even tried to use _you!_ If anything, you didn't hit me hard enough.”

“Oh.” Karkat thought about saying something comforting, like how that wasn't true, but the statement made a lot of sense and he was too honest for that.

“Terezi said that I should... uh, that I could change if I just... well, I've been thinking about it all night, and. Um. Bluuuh! It's scary, okay? It wouldn't work out, not with my problems.”

Karkat raised his eyebrows, an inkling suspicion of what that meddler must have suggested creeping into his head. They lapsed into awkward silence again. The angle of the sun slowly shifted, lighting up the dust motes as they drifted around the room.

“You know,” the troll finally said, “people can date without immediately jumping each other's bones.”

John stared at him blankly. “What?”

“I'm a pretty understanding guy, despite how I look,” he continued, turning red as he grew more and more embarrassed. “I can be patient. You know, if it were necessary.”

“O... kay...?” John said hesitantly, turning red himself.

“I just felt like stating that! For future reference. In case anyone was wondering.”

“...”

“Oh gog, I'm going to shut up now.”

John giggled, feeling absurdly giddy all of a sudden. He chose to blame it on the coffee. Karkat glared balefully at him, the effect ruined by the candy color of his cheeks, and that just set him off on another fit of unmanly laughter. After all that worry and tension, the sudden rush of joy was sending prickles of moisture to the corners his eyes. Even Karkat couldn't hold onto his sour-puss expression in the face of such relieved levity, and eventually shook his head with an exasperated smile.

“You're hopeless, you know that?”

“Sorry!” he said with a grin.

“Don't you have something you should be doing?”

“I know, I know,” he said, trying to stifle his mirth. “Is there still an oaf on my doorstep?”

“Let's find out.” Together they rose from their seats and moved to peek out of the two windows book-ending the piano.

“Yup, there's still an oaf on your doorstep.”

“Guess I won't be playing music while I think for a while.”

“Nope.”

“In that case, there's hardly any point in being here at all!”

“Well, we couldn't have just run around in those two-minute disguises forever. We're about as safe here as anywhere else.”

“Uhg, I feel like I'm stuck in my own home.”

“Better that then wandering the streets. It looks like a summer storm is coming in.”

John glanced at the sky. Though the morning sun still shone through, there were indeed some ominous looking clouds approaching in the distance. “We've been needing some rain,” he remarked.

“Looks like you'll be getting all that and more,” the troll said as he pulled up the forecast on his phone. “The weather report is calling for a torrential downpour.”

“Raining cats and dogs, huh?”

“Why do you humans say that? It makes absolutely no sense!”

“Would you prefer 'raining buckets?'”

Karkat wrinkled his nose in a manner that was oddly endearing. “No. That's _obscene_.”

“Heh heh.” John started to move away from the window, only to jump in surprise as something small smacked loudly into the glass. Karkat just about had a heart attack, thinking it was bullet even though the window was unharmed. They both leaped backwards, watching with frayed nerves on edge as something struck it again. They got a better look this time.

It was a bee. Several bees, in fact, buzzing frantically in front of the surface as if they wanted to swarm inside.

“What the fuck?” Karkat barked. “What are they doing?” John watched with wide eyes, mind racing as he searched for a logical reason for why the insects would behave in such a manner.

“Tavros?” he whispered. The bees beat themselves against the glass a few more times, then suddenly stopped. As if confused, they began to disperse, some still wandering over the transparent surface in aimless circles before flying off. A few moments later and they were all gone.

“What was that about?” Karkat finally said to break the silence. He turned to look at the detective, another question perched on his tongue, but it died before it ever left his lips as he saw the expression on his face. John had gone dead white.

“Oh no,” the human whispered. “Oh, no. Oh no no no no no no no!”

“What?” Karkat croaked, though he already had a good idea what was wrong. As if to answer his suspicions, John's cellphone suddenly began ringing, the piercing jangle shattering his nerves. With trembling hands, the even paler than normal man pulled it out and answered.

“Jade?”

Even the troll's sensitive ears couldn't make out what was being said on the other end, but it was pretty obvious by John's half of the conversation what was being said.

“I know, I saw them here, too! Where is he?” A pause. “How long ago was that?” Another pause. “Call the police, Jade! Have them search everywhere between there and Gamzee's! Don't leave the lab! I'm going to go look too!” With that he hung up and looked at Karkat with a despairing kind of panic. “Tavros went out not fifteen minutes ago to help Gamzee with something. I have a really bad feeling about this! Let's hurry!”

Karkat nodded emphatically and joined him in rushing to the kitchen, climbing through the window and almost sliding down the fire escape ladder. Feet pounded the pavement as they ran full tilt down the backstreet and out onto the main road. Heedless of all their previous concerns on the matter, John flagged down a taxi and they clambered in, gasping out the address for Gamzee's residence. As the taxi tore through the city streets, John pulled out his phone again and began dialing up Tavros's number. It rang and rang with no response.

“Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay,” he chanted softly under his breath. Karkat silently echoed him.

“Do you think he made it to Gamzee's hive?”

“I don't know. But it's the best place to start.” John bit his lip and turned to stare out the window, legs twitching restlessly. The pale blue morning sky was turning overcast as the first clouds rolled in.

As they approached the dark, whimsically designed edifice that was the Makara estate, the flashing of red and blue lights could be seen. Karkat's first assumption was that it was the police, but as the taxi pulled up to a stop the source was revealed to be an ambulance, instead. Confused and worried, the two quickly paid the cabbie and hurried over to the scene.

Several paramedics were surrounding a prone form, administering oxygen and trying to load it onto a stretcher. John approached with wide eyes, afraid to know who the injured body belonged to but unable to look away.

It was Gamzee.

For a moment, the detective felt a rush of relief. He finally looked around, expecting to see Tavros sitting or hovering nearby, fraught with concern for his moirail. He must have panicked, lost his cellphone, and sent for help with his animal-controlling powers instead.

As his brain caught up with him, however, John's hopes fell. There were two very prominent flaws with that deduction. First, Tavros was nowhere to be found. Instead, the catlike form of Nepeta Leijon was bent over the victim, gripping his hand and uttering soft reassurances. Second was the affliction itself. Gamzee, a massive troll with long limbs, a mane of shaggy hair and some of the longest horns he'd ever seen save for Tavros's and Feferi's, was laying on the ground helplessly, gasping for air. Indigo welts were swelling all over his arms and face, obviously the source of his affliction. The paramedics were administering an injection of something in his thigh; John had no doubt that it was adrenaline. It was clear that the troll had been attacked by a swarm of bees, and was now suffering an allergic reaction.

Bees. A creature Tavros could easily control, even from great distances. Gamzee had called Tavros for help at least half an hour ago, but it couldn't have been because he'd already been stung. The wild-looking troll would have been dead by now, if that were the case. So... had Tavros been controlling them to keep them at bay while he flew to the scene, gotten waylaid, and then lost control, leaving the bees free to sting? But then why did he send bees to Jade and himself, just before his control vanished? To get help to Gamzee?

Or could it be... that Tavros commanded the attack?

As the ambulance crew lifted the stretcher and carried Gamzee away, John approached Nepeta, hoping she could shed some light on the darkness. “What happened here?”

“Oh, it was awful! Gamzee invited me over to play this morning, and of course I couldn't say no, not when Kanaya and Equius have been dropping so many hints that I should give him a chance! So there we were, hunting the dawn birds when all of a sudden a swarm of bees came out of nowhere and attacked him! I tried to fend them off, but they were purrsistent! Then they just flew away as suddenly as they appeared, and poor Gamzee collapsed! I never knew he was allergic to anything. He couldn't even talk, so he dialed for an ambulance himself and handed the phone to me. That's when I knew it was serious.” Slitted eyes glistened as she stared at the phone cradled in her claws. “I feel awful. I'm the one who suggested we go hunting. If we hadn't been outside this wouldn't have happened.”

“What about Tavros? Did he make it here?”

“Tavros? I don't know. Was he supposed to?”

John blinked. That didn't make sense. It sounded like the bees appeared at the same time as the ones he saw at his window. Why, then, was the bull-horned troll on his way? “Didn't Gamzee send for him?”

“Not that I know of. Someone did ring the doorbell this morning, but I didn't see who it was. They didn't stay, in any case. I guess that could have been him.”

“How long ago was that?”

“It was shortly after I arrived, so... almost an hour ago?”

That couldn't have been Tavros, then. But Jade had claimed he had been called by Gamzee. John frowned. “Could I look at that?” he asked, pointing to the cellphone in her hands.

“This? Okay,” she sniffled and passed it gingerly over.

The detective quickly navigated to the call history, checking the last several names and dates. Two were made an hour and a half ago—one to 'Pretty Kitty' and one to 'Part Timer'—and a third call half an hour ago to 'Peanut Butter.' “Did Gamzee step away to make a call during your bird hunt?”

“He did go inside once to fetch us some Faygo. Purrhaps he made a call then?”

“That has to be it. But what did he want Tavros's aid for?”

“The hunt? Gamzee's far too big to sneak up on anything. Maybe he was calling in some secret help so he could impress me?

“Maybe. But that still doesn't explain the behavior of those bees. How close were you when they attacked?”

“I was right next to him. I swatted and sliced at them, but they wouldn't stop!”

“Why didn't they attack you too, then, especially if you were hurting them?”

“Why... I don't know,” she exclaimed, puzzled. “They just seemed very intent on attacking Gamzee, even though he didn't do anything. I'd never seen anything like it!”

The more he heard, the more it sounded to John as though Tavros had sent the bees intentionally. But why would he do such a thing to his moirail? And where was he? His head buzzing with questions, John pulled out his own phone and dialed up the troll again. After several rings, it was finally answered. “Tavros?” John hopefully.

There was a silent pause, then finally a familiar voice spoke. “John.”

“Uncle Sleuth? What are you doing with Tavros's phone?”

“When I saw who was calling, I decided to pick up. I was going to call you in a few minutes anyway. I'm on top of one of the buildings in the path Jade told us to search.”

“Is Tavros there? Is he alright?” John asked, this throat clenching and making it difficult to speak.

Another long pause. “Yes and no, John,” Sleuth said sadly. The detective could feel his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. “You should probably come here right away. It's already too late, I'm afraid. He's dead.”

* * *

It was like staring at a crumpled butterfly.

Red tears were running down Karkat's face, and John felt a peculiar clenching in his stomach, like he was going to be sick. It was an odd feeling for him. He hadn't felt nausea at the sight of death since... well, since he was thirteen.

Gamzee had always loved Tavros's wings. He said they were the most miraculous miracle he'd ever seen. Now they fluttered like dried out leaves in the restless stormy wind, torn and splattered with orange droplets of blood. Amazingly enough, his enormous horns were still intact.

The usual signs were there; the troll was battered, bruised, and marked with a burn, his own lance thrust through his chest. But as John stared at the body numbly, something struck him as odd. He knelt beside the corpse, inspecting the blows with an expert eye. Tavros's face, like Aradia's, was streaked with the evidence of sorrow, but his expression bore a dark twist none of the other victims had wore.

Triumph.

“He died early.”

“What?” Karkat and Sleuth said at the same time.

“The killer always keeps them alive as long as possible. The fatal blow is usually the final strike on the head. But this time the victim was killed first, and beaten afterwards. Why?”

“To stop him from using his powers?”

“But the killer had a plan to take care of psychic resistance when they killed Aradia. Why not this time?”

“Maybe it backfired?”

John looked around the roof. They were on top of a tall, slightly rundown apartment complex. If there was ever a lock on the door up here, it had broken long ago and never been fixed. The roof itself was covered with massive AC units and other pieces of equipment, offering plenty of cover from any prying eyes that might have glanced over from the neighboring buildings.

“He did have a plan. There are no pets allowed in this apartment.” The detective walked to the edge and peered over the side. “There's no way for any animal to get up here unless it could fly. I'm guessing the murderer had something prepared to keep those creatures at bay. But that's where he messed up!” He spun around, a grim smile on his face. “Like Aradia, Tavros chose to use his powers to leave a message instead. And when the murderer realized what was going on, he had to stop it immediately.”

“But why sting Gamzee? As close as they were, wouldn't he have known about his allergy?”

“Perhaps that was the point. If you knew you were about to die, wouldn't you want revenge on your killer?”

“But Gamzee wasn't even there! He couldn't have been the murderer!”

“But he must be involved somehow. That's what Tavros wanted to make sure we knew.” John turned to Sleuth, his eyes narrowing. “I suggest you send some of your strongest men to keep an eye on our dear drug addict while he's recovering in the hospital. He's going to have a lot to answer for once he wakes!”

With an abrupt turn, he headed for the roof door, beckoning Karkat to follow. “Where are we going now?” the troll asked, face still twisted grief.

“To see Jade. We have a very unpleasant responsibility to uphold.”

The first sprinkles of rain were beginning to fall as they reached the street, a foreboding of the tears they would soon be facing.

* * *

The lab was ominously dark. The two figures stepped inside, one peering around with wet glasses. “Jade?” he called softly, hesitantly. There was no answer, but a light could be seen coming from under one of the doors down the hall. Exchanging glances, the duo slipped down the corridor.

“Jade?” he called again, pushing the door open gently and peering inside. It was a bright, clinical looking room, cluttered with papers, reference books, computers, and a large contraption hooked up to many vats and vials. The human in question was facing away, dressed in a long white coat and gloves, her hair secured with a tie at the nape of her neck. “We need to talk.”

“He's dead, isn't he,” the cold voice stated. Jade turned her head, pinning him in place with her icy, bloodshot eyes. “You needn't bother. I already know.”

John swallowed. He didn't care for the detached way she was behaving. She was acting too much like _him_ , instead of her usual, caring self. “Did someone call you already?”

She snorted. “No. I just know.”

“But... how? Tavros didn't have that kind of power.”

“It's not a _power_ , John,” she said acidly. “Just forget about it. I wouldn't expect _you_ to understand.” She turned back to her work, furiously typing as she stared at streams and streams of code across a computer screen.

The dark-haired man fidgeted nervously. _Oh gog, I'm not cut out for this sort of thing!_ “What are you working on?”

“What do you think? The same thing I've _been_ working on, genius.” She turned away from the computer screen just long enough to run her finger down the page of a book that was open beside her.

Oh. Her genetic modification device. John wasn't the best at dealing with strong emotions, but he knew an escape when he saw one. “Whether you finish it or not, it won't bring Tavros back,” he said as gently as he could.

Jade exploded. “YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THAT?” she shrieked, grabbing a beaker and flinging it at him. Karkat yanked John out of the way, the heavy glass object sailing past and exploding into a dozen shards against the wall. “Of course it won't! But the man I love is _dead_ , John, and this is all I have left of him! This is our baby! Or it _would_ be, if I could get this _fucking_ thing to _work!_ ” She grabbed a stack of books and threw them across the room, then did the same to a pile of papers, the white slips fluttering through the air like they'd been struck by a passing tornado.

“C-calm down Jade!”

“Calm down? _Calm down?!_ So _sorry_ , I don't have your infinitely cruel logic to keep those pesky emotions away! Get the _fuck_ out of here, John, you're the last person in the world who can possibly understand how I feel! How would _you_ know what it's like to care about someone so much you'd gladly die if it would only bring them back? You've never loved a single person in your whole life! You don't even have a heart to break anymore, you're just an empty shell! Get out! GET OUT!” Tears were streaming down her mottled red cheeks, her face contorted in fury and anguish. Frightened and in over his head, John stumbled back into the hall and hastily closed the door.

The silence was painful. Behind the door, the two men could hear heart-wrenching sobs as Jade collapsed and wailed out her misery. They looked at each other with helpless worry.

“What should I do?” John whispered in despair.

“Call someone else. Someone who can get through to her. Aren't you four childhood friends close?”

“None of them really talk to each other anymore. They just ask me how the others are doing.”

Karkat hesitated for a moment, then spoke. “Call Feferi.”

“Her?” He paused, thinking about that for a moment. Feferi had indeed been providing more support to Jade lately than anyone save Tavros himself. “Yeah. That sounds good. Could... could you do it? I need to...” he trailed off, eyes slipping out of focus as he shambled down the hall to the front entrance. “I need some air.”

“It's pouring outside now!”

“Is it? How nice.”

Karkat blinked, then stared at the hunched form with sympathy. “She was just lashing out because she was hurting. When she calms down, I'm sure Jade will feel terrible and come crying for forgiveness!”

John paused in the doorway, looking over his shoulder to flash a brittle smile at the troll. “How _carefully_ you phrased that, Agent Vantas! I'm sure you're right, too. Jade will definitely regret all those things she said.” He turned away and stepped out into the rain, meandering aimlessly around the trimmed landscape. Within moments he was soaked, the rivulets of rain camouflaging any signs that his cruel, logical heart might be hurting.

Karkat watched him go, pulling out his cellphone with a sigh. He had _wanted_ to say it. It was the natural thing to say in such a situation, but for the second time that morning, the phrase 'it's not true' wouldn't let itself tumble from his lips.

After all, how could he know for sure?

* * *

One good thing to say about Ms. Peixes, she was never too wrapped up in politics to drop everything and help out a friend. The sea-troll arrived in no time, shedding her Tyrian purple raincoat and running down the corridor with loud, squelching steps. Karkat followed, peeking in the doorway for a few moments as he watched her drop to her knees, enveloping Jade in a tight hug. The human sobbed into her chest, gripping her back as she was cut off from the world by billowing curtains of wavy hair.

She would be alright, now, Karkat was sure of it. Time was all she needed.

The bodyguard slipped away, unwilling to let his charge leave his sight for any longer. Flipping through his inventory, he found a serviceable black umbrella and headed out into the rain. John had been out there long enough. It may be summer, but the temperature was dropping quickly and the gusting wind felt plenty chill. Orange eyes peered through the curtains of water. For a moment, his heart leaped into his chest—he couldn't find him anywhere! The troll darted through the topiary, panic trying to seize his senses. All he could see were shadows and steam, all he could hear was rain!

But then he spotted it; the silhouette of a huddled figure, sitting in the mud under an apple tree. It was at least a little less wet under its branches, which were covered in numerous small fruits that still had a long ways to go until they were ripe. Karkat trotted over to his side, holding the umbrella over them both.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey,” John responded after a moment. He looked up, gazing at the branches he could see from around the black canopy that now blocked the rain. “I had an apple tree once.”

Karkat blinked, but didn't remark on the oddness of the subject. “Did you?”

“Yup. I could see it from my bedroom window as a child, in one of the many cities we lived in. Since I was the only one of us kids with a birthday not in Winter, we liked to celebrate it by playing outside. We would hang a piñata from the tree and take turns trying to break it open. Jade was horrible at it,” he said with a fond smile. “In autumn, we would climb up and eat apples while we sat on its branches. I was such a brat back then. I would pick an apple, take a single bite, then toss it away for another one. I wasn't actually interested in eating, I just wanted to mar all those perfect, shiny apples.”

“Oh,” Karkat finally said after he realized the story was over. They were silent for a while, watching the rain fall.

“I haven't changed,” came the quiet whisper, blue eyes gazing far away at things no one else could see.

“What do you mean?”

“That's still all I do. People are like apples to me; I can't stand to see them untouched. I have to rip them open and expose what lies within before I'm satisfied. The act fills me with pleasure, even as they despise me for it. I don't even see them as people. I'm just a heartless monster, a cruel child who loves to break all his toys. Jade's perfectly correct. The only person I've ever loved was my father, and when that love twisted into hatred, I hardened my heart into stone.”

Karkat sighed and squatted down. Reaching over with his free hand, he turned the detective's head and forced him to look him in the eyes. “I disagree.”

John stared at him blankly, polite disbelief etched across his face.

“I don't think you turned your heart _into_ stone. I think you just built a brick wall around it. A wall that imprisons you, does a poor job of protecting your feelings, and constantly has to be patched up. You're busily repairing it with chipped pieces and mortar even as we speak. _Stop it_.”

The detective's eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“Jade's words hurt you. That much is obvious. They hurt because they have the sting of truth. But instead of using that pain to help you break free, you're trying to _accept_ it like its some kind of deserving punishment. Don't! If you don't like who you've become, then change!”

“I don't know how!” he confessed helplessly. Tears were starting to cloud up his eyes, and now the rain wasn't going to hide them. He tried to turn away, but Karkat wouldn't let him.

“I'll help you! Let me help you, John,” Karkat said earnestly.

Those peculiar human tears, clear as water, spilled over and down his already damp cheeks. “But why would you even want to?” came the tremulous question.

If this were a rom-com movie, of which Karkat had avidly seen hundreds, he knew this would be the part where he leaned in and placed a fervent kiss on his weeping love-interest's lips. However, Karkat was well aware of the differences between theater and reality, and an extremely distraught and confused man with intimacy issues was not the sort of person one should comfort with a surprise smooch. Instead, the troll carefully maneuvered the umbrella and pulled the sodden man into a hug, in much the same way as he'd seen the two women do not long before.

“Because I care,” he said simply.

John had nothing to say to that. So he hugged him back and cried on his shoulder, the sound of his sobs muffled by the pouring rain.

* * *

It took a while of tiptoeing through different rooms at the lab, but they finally found where Jade had left John's last set of clothes, now nicely cleaned and folded. Karkat kicked the cold, shivering human into the bathroom and told him not to come out until he'd had a hot shower. He emerged some time later, dressed and running a towel through his hair as he fiddled with his phone in the other hand. “Gamzee still hasn't awoken at the hospital,” he informed the troll.

Karkat grunted. “What shall we do until he does?”

“Uncle Sleuth says he'll let me join the investigation team in snooping around his hive.”

The troll sighed. John cocked a questioning eyebrow. “It's just... I hate to think Gamzee's involved! He's always been such a gentle giant! You know. For a guy who fried all his brain cells years ago and follows a freaky clown religion.”

“Well, sopor slime has a strong sedative effect, that's why it's used in recuperacoons. I wouldn't be surprised if he behaved completely differently when he's not high.” John paused, brows creasing in thought. “I wonder.”

“What?”

“Duality. Tragedy and comedy. What if Gamzee _is_ like a different person when his mind is clear? That could be what Aradia was trying to tell us! That statue with two heads could refer to a man with two faces; two personalities. And also... two people.” He tossed aside the towel and grabbed Karkat's arm. “We need to hurry!”

“What? Why?”

John dragged him to the front door, pausing just long enough to let him get the umbrella. “The mastermind is still out there!”

“Who?” They pounded out into the rain, running to the street corner to hail a taxi.

“I don't know yet, but one thing is obvious! Gamzee wasn't present when Tavros was killed. That means he has an accomplice! And if he's really been eating straight-up sopor slime for years, he can't possibly have enough wits left to come up with those clever plans. The accomplice is a smart one, and still on the loose!”

They piled into the taxi and gave the driver an order to step on it. The yellow vehicle tore down the streets, waves of water parting in its wake. “How do we find him?” Karkat asked, his nerves on edge.

John was silent for a moment. “There has to be a clue at Gamzee's place.” Buildings rushed past, tall and ominous in the dark sky. “They must keep in contact somehow... oh!”

“What?!”

“There was a listing on his phone! He called someone nicknamed 'Part Timer' around the same time he called Ms. Leijon. That mystery person who rang his doorbell and didn't stay, that was probably him—I think they must have exchanged something at that time. Then Part Timer went alone to murder Tavros, while Gamzee stayed behind with Nepeta. It would have been the second time she provided an alibi for someone close to the victim. Is she in on this, too?” He frowned, his voice decreasing in volume as he pondered aloud to himself. “Or is she an unwitting pawn? Or was it coincidence?” His voice leaped again, making his companion jump. “Damn it! If she still has Gamzee's phone, she could have erased the number by now! I need to know where it ended up!” The detective pulled out his phone, no doubt to call up his uncle once more.

He never got the chance.

There was a loud 'pop,' and then the taxi was careening from side to side. It hit the curb roughly, coming to a sudden halt as it crashed into a lamp post. As the dust settled, Karkat's eyes darted around, taking stock of the situation. The driver, a glittering black carapace, was cursing and beating the airbag out of his face, while John clutched his head where it had bumped the roof of the taxi. Such were the downsides of being tall. Unfastening his belt, the troll turned and peered out the rear windshield, searching past the steamy glass and sheets of rain for what he knew he would find.

Yes, there it was. Atop one of the tall buildings he could just make out the lean silhouette and curved hat of Diamonds Droog. The man lifted up a long, thin sniper rifle and cocked his head, turning to disappear from sight.

Karkat took a closer look at their surroundings. The taxi had been cutting through one of the rougher parts of town in order to get them to their destination as fast as possible. Everyone was indoors thanks to the storm, and even if they hadn't been, it was unlikely that they would be the type to talk.

“Fuck. John, we need to get out of here, now.”

“What?” he asked weakly, still holding his head. The driver finally got the airbag out of his face, took one look out the window, and bolted out the door.

“ _Now_ , John!” Karkat yelled, leaning over to unfasten the man's seat belt and pulling him practically into his lap as he kicked open the door and dragged him out. John looked back and widened his eyes at the sight of the massive form of Hearts Boxcars, arms raised and about to slam his fists down upon the car's roof.

There was a loud crunching noise as the metal crumpled under the force of the blow. Struggling to keep his long legs under him and vision rapidly obscuring as the rain splattered over his glasses, John let himself be led as Karkat raced down the street. Orange-rimmed eyes darted frantically from side to side, searching madly for danger between every building. This was it, then. The Midnight Crew were done playing around.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck! We need to get off the streets,” Karkat growled. He eyeballed the rooftops balefully, knowing that Droog was probably following them from above.

“If only it weren't raining! I'd suggest the storm drains, but we'd probably drown in this weather,” John gasped. “Man, and I just got dry!”

“Yeah, let's not do that. Come on, we can at least _try_ to lose them!” They darted down an alley, dodging trash cans and dumpsters, clambering over walls and fences, and zig-zagging around cars and buildings. John fumbled with his phone as they ran, trying again to call up PS.

“Uncle Sleuth? I could really use some help! The MC are coming after us in force!” The two of them ran down a street lined with awnings, creating a strange rhythm as they darted in and out of the pelting rain. “Where? There's a street sign up ahead, let me check.” With his eyes fixed on the bold letters, John didn't even see it coming. A squat figure rounded the corner just as they did and swung wide with a long cane. It clubbed the detective across the head and hand, sending him reeling and the phone smashing across the concrete.

“Dammit!” Karkat hissed, his sickles flying into his hands. He lashed out at Deuce, leaving bloody red streaks across his hard, shell-like skin. CD hastily retreated, his little arms flailing as he skittered away. John fumbled for his phone with his uninjured hand, scooped it up, and checked the screen. Nothing; it was definitely broken. Once again clutching his head, he stumbled up to his bodyguard and let himself be led by the arm. They splashed through the deepening puddles as they ran away once more.

“A few more blocks and we'll hit the highway,” John moaned around the pain. “It's a much nicer part of town beyond that. The MC will think twice before following us there!”

“Let's hope so,” Karkat huffed back. “Even with less numbers and no stupid powers, the MC has stood toe to toe with the Felt for years. There's no way we can hold them off forever!” Even as he spoke, a street lantern they were passing exploded, no doubt meeting the same fate as the taxi's tire. Fighting off the urge to look around for the sniper, Karkat held his course and led them around another corner, hopefully out of sight.

“There!” John gasped with relief. “You can see it already!” Through the haze of steam and water, a raised highway was visible in the distance, flashes of light outlining the guard rails as cars whizzed past. There was a long, dark tunnel running underneath it, and it was to this underpass that they bolted, gasping for breath and fighting off exhaustion. Two blocks left... one block left... nearly there... closer...

The pounding of waterlogged shoes echoed through the tunnel as they entered, the sudden lack of rain pelting their skin a surprising relief. Sheltered from DD's bullets for the time being, Karkat tugged on John's arm to slow him down. They approached the end of the tunnel with more caution. Now was a poor time to lower their defenses. They had yet to encounter the true boss of the Midnight Crew, after all. In fact, it would be just like Slick to lie in wait at their last possible escape, ready to snatch victory away from them when it was finally within their grasp.

Karkat pulled his charge to a stop and stepped protectively in front of him. “Jack?” he called, his voice hoarse from running. John shifted nervously behind him. There was nothing but the sound of echoing rain for a moment, a stream of it running past their feet.

Then a shadowy black figure in a trench coat and hat stepped into view from around the tunnel exit.

“Hey, kid.”

For a moment, all Karkat could do was stare. It had been years since he last saw the man who outed his blood color, changed the way he viewed life, and took him in off the street. He wouldn't say the carapace was like a father to him, because trolls didn't have fathers. Not like a lusus, either, since Jack didn't need him in the slightest. But he had meant _something_ to him. If Karkat had been a human, he might have said that Jack was like a big brother.

“Hello, Jack. How's business?” Clawed hands tightened over the blades they clenched.

The man who now went by another moniker gave a little laugh. “Well enough. You'll have to ask Droog if you want the specifics, he's the one who enjoys all the tedious bookkeeping. I see you've done well. Gone all straight and narrow on me, huh? Such a shame.”

They stared at each other, Karkat with two glowing eyes and SS with one. Neither blinked.

“Speaking of business, though,” Jack said after the silence had stretched on long enough, “there's the matter of your friend, there. It seems his abilities are a valuable commodity in these troubled times. I don't suppose you'd let us have a little chat with him?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” John spat through clattering teeth. “You might as well let us pass.”

“Aw, that's too bad. You see, _no one_ turns down the Midnight Crew. The only way you're passing me is by passing on!” He gave a casual swing of an arm that sent a dagger flying through the air, which Karkat easily deflected.

“How long did it take you to come up with that one?” the troll hissed, crouching into a defensive stance. John had the good sense to back up a few steps, pressing against the wall of the tunnel.

“Eh, not that long. I've got several dozen more, for all the most obvious things you might say or do.”

“Really. Good to know you haven't changed, you demented psychopath.”

“Why change when you're already perfect?” he said with a grin full of fangs. A long, narrow sword appeared in his hands, which he stabbed through the air a few times for a warm up.

“The Rapier Wit? Your one-liners must have finally improved if you're pulling that out first thing.”

“You don't think they were any good? I'm hurt. Are you trying to _cut me down to size?_ ” he sneered as he lunged forward. The troll dodged to the side and tried to snag the blade with his own weapons, but Jack was too quick for that. He swung and stabbed faster than the eye could see, forcing Karkat to weave and block the whirling steel. The clanging sounds reverberated off the walls in confusing dissonance, throwing off any sense of rhythm.

“It's a shame you never took an interest in my work, kid,” Jack said conversationally as he drove his old friend back step by step. “You could have made a good addition to the team.”

“Funny, I don't remember you ever saying much about it back then,” he retorted, trying to hold his ground.

“Did I not? Guess I had more important things on my mind than snot-nosed punks. I suppose I could extend the offer now. How about it, kid, want to ditch those stuffed shirts that you work for?”

“Whether I do or not, I'm still not interested in joining a bunch of criminals.”

“Damn. That would have made it real easy to press-gang your little scarecrow over there into service. Oh well, guess we're stuck doing this the hard way.” With a deft movement he locked his blade into one of Karkat's sickles, wrenched it out of his hand and sent it skittering across the ground. The troll growled and summoned a dagger from up his sleeve, threading it through the elaborate guard on the rapier and ripping it out of Jack's grasp in a similar motion. With a snarl the mob boss leaped back and pulled out his Saber Rattle.

“Looks like you learned a few tricks up at Nuisance School,” he conceded.

“I was qualified for this mission, after all. They were hardly counting on you going easy on me out of the goodness of your heart.”

Jack laughed at that, great rasping chuckles that grated on the ears. He twirled his sword around in fluid circles, not so much as a display of arrogant confidence as it was a simple outlet for his eagerness and impatience. “Good to know they haven't all gone shithive maggots up there. I'd hate to think that someone _actually_ thought I had one. The very idea makes my shell _rattle!_ ”

Karkat tensed as his foe moved to dart forward, but the blow never came. Spades Slick paused in the middle of his lunge with disgust. “Wait, that one was stupid. Let me try again.” The troll huffed in exasperation as the mob boss pondered. “You'd better _savor_ this battle 'cause my _saber's_ gonna—no, that's even worse. How about—no. Tell you what, lets' just stick with the first one, it's not so bad in retrospect. No heart rattles in _my_ chest cavity!”

With a clash of blades they were at it again. John watched with trepidation from where he huddled against the wall. His head was pounding after two blows to the noggin and his hand throbbed. He didn't think anything was broken, but it still hurt. He wanted to help Karkat out, but had a feeling the troll wouldn't appreciate his fumbling interference. It would probably be best if he let his bodyguard concentrate on the task at hand without having to worry about him. It looked like he needed every ounce of focus already just to keep up!

Karkat spun out of the way of another blow, the sword grazing against the concrete wall in a streak of sparks. He dodged lunge after lunge, either just barely keeping his body clear or blocking the hit with his own blades. Every now and then he made a swipe of his own, but Jack easily blocked the blows with the saber or his robotic arm. Karkat was used to being smaller than his opponents, using speed to make up for his disadvantage in strength, but Slick was even shorter and faster than he was. At this rate, he was going to lose this battle unless he did something drastic.

It was stupid, but it was the first thing that popped in his head. He pointed to the exit of the underpass, behind Jack, and exclaimed in a surprised voice: “Terrier!”

Slick's reaction was automatic; a quick spin of the head as he turned to look. The troll used that split second of distraction to twist his sickle around the saber's blade and disarm him, then sweep his favored weapon in a wide arc to that vulnerable neck. Once again Jack was too quick, however, and his one metal arm raised up just in time to take the force of the blow. Karkat slammed him bodily into the wall, his steel wrist and neck trapped against the concrete by the curved blade. Both of their other hands were occupied a moment later with fighting over whether or not the troll's dagger was going to embed itself in the carapace's theoretically empty chest cavity.

“Oh, kid, haven't you learned anything?” Jack managed to rasp in a disappointed voice, struggling for air.

“Like what?” he growled back.

“Never pin someone face-to-face,” he hissed, then kneed the troll right in the auto-erogenous shame globes.

As Karkat half-crumpled, Jack brushed the hand with the dagger away, whipped out the Ace of Spades from up his sleeve, and transformed it into his Cast Iron Horse Hitcher. With a painful crack he swung it across the troll's head, sending him reeling to the ground, his weapons flying from his hands.

“Karkat!” John yelped, panic seizing him as he saw his friend struggle to stay conscious. The mob boss leaned over the troll from behind, wrapped the heavy iron weapon under his chin, and lifted him to his feet. Karkat clutched at it frantically as Jack pulled it back tight, cutting off his air.

“There, you see? _This_ is how you pin someone. They can't get up to nearly as much funny business this way.” The troll's face turned redder and redder as he struggled, his feet kicking uselessly and his eyes rolling back into his head. “Such a shame you'll never be able to make use of what you learned today. It was fun seeing you again, kid, but this is where our association ends.”

“Wait!” John cried, his hand outstretched. _Oh gog, this can't be happening! Karkat!_

“You want something? You're next, you know, just be patient.”

“Don't do this! I won't run anymore, I promise! I'm the one you really want, right?”

Slick pondered this for a moment, not releasing his grip in the slightest. “Are you suggesting that you'll let yourself be killed quietly if I don't kill Squirt, here?”

 _Am I?_ John wasn't sure what he was doing. He just couldn't let this man die! Not this one!

“Because that's a very silly thing to offer. I'll just kill you and then go back to killing him.” He pulled on his weapon harder, making Karkat's eyes bug out from their sockets.

“No! I'll—I'll join you!”

Jack arched his brow, his grip slackening. Karkat took a much needed gasp of air and went limp, eyes closing. “Really. I seem to recall Droog telling me that you 'absolutely wouldn't' and it 'wasn't even an option.' Did he mishear?”

“I've had a change of heart! Just please, _please_ , let him go!”

Jack stared down with one eye at the troll he had once taken under his wing. “Oh, kid. You can't do anything right, can you? Bodyguards are meant to be disposable. What good are you if the person you're guarding gets attached?” He made a 'tsk tsk' noise before looking back up at the human pleading before him. “Aww, look at those big blue eyes. So pathetic. Don't tell me you're full of mating fondness for this washout? Part of the reason we wanted you in the first place was because you had the kind of heartless disposition needed to be a member of our crew. Now you go and wave around such a glaring weakness?” His grip tightened once more, choking his unconscious victim. “Forget it. Now all any blackmail target would have to do is threaten your little troll-toy here. You're useless now.”

“Wait!”

“Nope.”

“Don't you need a witty one-liner?”

“Oh, they're fun and all, but I find my weapons to be much better at getting my point across, don't you?”

Karkat's face turned blue as he hung in his mentor's grasp. John clutched his head, feeling a desperation so agonizing he wanted to tear out his hair and claw at his face. Was there nothing he could do? He could attack with his hammers, but that would only buy Karkat a little time, until John was defeated and killed. Wasn't there anything? Anything at all? His mind raced over the contents of his captchalogue.

And then, like a beacon of hope, an idea lit up his brain.

Collapsing on the ground in a far-too-genuine show of grief, John carefully slipped his fingers into his pockets. “How about if _I_ tell _you_ a parting line?”

The carapace snorted. “Sure, why not?”

“What can you say about the chilliest woman of all?”

Jack froze. His glittering eye narrowed as he focused his full attention on the drenched human, then widened as he spotted the object clutched in his hand. A small silver quarter with an eight etched on both sides. Jack dropped his captive to the ground as he began to run forward.

“She's No Man,” the detective slurred with a dark glare, flipping the coin.

It flashed through the air as if in slow motion, Spades Slick diving frantically to catch it before it could hit the ground. He failed. It landed with a loud, ominous clink and glowed darkly. The shadows expanded, rose, and took the shapely form of an hourglass figure, materializing into the woman in question.

Snowman was a tall, elegant carapace wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a sleek trench coat with a green sheen. She took in her sudden change of surroundings with a cool glance, settling her gaze on the sprawled form of her kismesis at her feet.

“Slick,” she hissed, a cruel grin tugging the corner of her lips, showing off a few fangs. “How nice to see you where you belong.”

Jack leaped hastily to his feet with a curse, scrambling to recover his weapons and his dignity. “Shut it, witch, this has nothing to do with you.”

“And yet here I am,” she said with a subtle wave of her ever-present cigarette holder, ignoring the insult. With an arched brow she took in the sight of the human detective crawling over to his troll bodyguard's side. “Funny, I thought _my_ gang had a claim on that man over there.”

“Oh, did you? Tough luck, then, he's just agreed to join the Midnight Crew!”

“Has he now?” she asked in her velvet voice. She watched as John scooped Karkat up into his arms, clutching him possessively and staring at her with wide, pleading eyes. “Why don't I believe you?”

“Because you're a huge bitch who can't comprehend when she's lost the game?”

“No, I think it's because they're escaping.” Upon hearing her words, John heaved the troll's dead weight over his back and began to stumble gratefully away.

“Dammit,” Jack cursed, turning to chase them down. Before he could take more than a few steps, a lance flew in front of his face, narrowly missing him and embedding itself with a crunch in the tunnel wall. It vibrated for a few more seconds before Jack stopped it with irritation. “Fuck it all, they're going to get away!”

“From _you_ , my dear. _I_ can always collect another day.”

With a guttural growl, he tore the lance from the wall, transforming it back into a cigarette holder. If he was capable of turning red he would be as bright as a tomato by now, from both frustration and embarrassment. “Oh, you're going to pay for this!” he growled.

“I can hardly wait,” she said with a smirk, pulling out her whip.

* * *

John stumbled through the rain once more, periodically hitching up the body slung over his back as it tried to slide off. His headache pounded behind his eyes as his vision blurred, and combined with the water on his glasses he couldn't see a thing. He crashed into a glass wall that turned out to be a payphone booth. Relieved, he opened the door and tried to set the troll down carefully inside, although he was so tired and weak by this point it was still pretty much like dropping him. Grabbing the phone off the receiver, he dialed the free number for emergencies.

“Hello? I need an ambulance! This is, um, John Egbert... tell Chief Sleuth... we're at...” he struggled to read the number on the phone. “Well... you can trace it... at least...”

He slumped to the floor beside the troll, the phone dangling on its cord. Their feet were still getting wet, but at least they weren't going to drown in a puddle, which would have been an embarrassing way to go. Karkat's head lolled around on his neck, so John clutched him to his chest. He would be okay, he hoped. Trolls were tough creatures. Karkat's heart was beating firmly in his chest, at least, which was rising and falling reassuringly with each glorious breath. He was alive. He was alive! Somehow, that phrase had never meant so much to John before.

The rain continued to pour from the dark gray sky, beating loudly against their cramped shelter, but the pale-skinned man tuned it out. With a little imagination, he could almost hear the soothing rhythm of Karkat's breath, the steady beat of his heart. He was cold, wet, and in pain, but be was also exhausted and relieved, and some other emotion that he was almost afraid to name. Holding his companion even closer, John stared down at his face, studying the worried crease to his brows, the long black lashes that lay closed and still, the gray pallor of his cheeks and the thin black lips that barely covered his fangs. How briefly they had featured in his life, yet how badly he would miss them if they were gone!

Picking the troll's hands from where they lay limply on the floor and placing them across his stomach, he wrapped his own hands over them. They were so damp and cold! He rubbed them weakly, then gave up and wrapped his fingers through them instead.

How strange. He couldn't see anything anymore. The uncomfortable chill, wetness and pain were fading, too. While he pondered these discoveries, the sound of rain decided to escape his senses as well, leaving him with only the warmth, breath, and heartbeat that he imagined were coming from the figure in his arms. With a smile, he figured out the mystery, and surrendered himself to it.

John Egbert slept.

* * *


	5. The Third Night

John had the strangest dream. A giant was standing over him, one with wild hair and long, waving horns. It didn't do anything to him, merely stared curiously down, yet the detective still felt certain that it was a monster to be wary of. He clutched tightly at the form within his arms, determined to keep it safe. The giant shook its head in disapproval, then vanished. John tried to make sense of it all, but slipped deeper into his sleep and forgot.

* * *

“Hey. You awake?”

John stirred, blue eyes blinking blearily against the soft light. The harsh smell of antiseptics clued him in to his location even before a pair of square glasses were hooked gently over his ears. “Is this the hospital?” he asked around the fuzziness of his mouth.

“Yup. Apparently we've been here all afternoon and evening, sleeping like cocooned wrigglers.”

As John's eyes finally came into focus, he looked around. It was a private room, empty for the moment but for the two of them. An oxygen mask hung nearby, no longer in use, on Karkat's side of the bed. As the haze of sleep left his senses, it occurred to John that something was wrong with that thought. Hospital-beds were not big enough for two, so the troll shouldn't have a 'side.' Yet they were most definitely curled up together, a fetching red color tinging Karkat's cheeks. Further inspection revealed that two beds had been pressed together. John stared at that, then looked questioningly into his friend's eyes.

The troll coughed. “According to the nurse, Terezi was running all over the place earlier, cackling and bragging and telling anyone who would listen that 'the Great Detective has fallen in love at last.'”

John turned bright red, his temperature skyrocketing. “What?”

Karkat blushed further. “Apparently, when the ambulance picked us up, you wouldn't let go of me. When they forced us apart for treatment, you started tossing and turning and having nightmares. My guess is Terezi decided to spare you the embarrassment of revealing your sleeping problem by embarrassing you in a different way.”

John didn't answer to that immediately. He fidgeted with the sleeve of Karkat's hospital gown, suddenly afraid to look him in the eye. “I don't think... I mean... that might not have been the only reason.”

Karkat's expression didn't change, but the detective could hear his heart rate pick up. John struggled to say more, but the words stuck in his throat. He propped himself up on his elbow instead, looking down on the prone troll. His gaze locked on his black lips, and he leaned toward them very slowly.

Karkat watched him with wide eyes, unmoving, not even daring to breathe. The man was shaking like a leaf, but he didn't look like he was going to be sick. Rather, he looked adorably frightened yet brave, determined to hold back his mental hangups long enough to perform this one gesture, come hell or high water. Pale lips touched dark, two sets of eyes closed, and the world faded away.

No one barged in. No noses bumped. John's first kiss was blessedly undisturbed, and a small part in the back of Karkat's mind was amused to realized that the detective must have at least studied the theory of kissing, even if the practice once repulsed him. He reached up a clawed hand and ran it gently down his head. John pulled away, breathing hard and staring at him with eyes swirled with emotion. With a dawning sense of wonder, Karkat realized that he now had the right to stare into those distracting blue orbs all he wanted.

“Matesprits?” he asked, seeking confirmation. It was no casual matter, not for a troll. John nodded vigorously, licking his lips and looking nervous but hopeful. Karkat gave a little smile, finding his hand and giving it a squeeze. John smiled back widely, relieved.

“Unbelievable,” Karkat remarked with a loud exhale of breath. “I've only had a single quadrant filled for years, and now suddenly I have two more. When it rains, it pours.”

“Wait, what?” John asked with confusion and a touch of jealousy. “Who's the other new one?”

“Terezi, you douche-nozzle!” the troll said with an amused snort. “She's clearly been setting us up with the intention of becoming our auspistice.”

“Oh. Oh yeah,” he replied with a sheepish grin.

“Honestly. You humans _always_ forget about the ashen quadrant.”

A sudden silence filled the air as his words settled like dust. Smiles froze on their faces, melting in slow motion to horror.

“Karkat. Would I be right in thinking that all of the murder victims were auspistices?”

“Yes. Yes you would. And not just _any_ auspistices! Every last one of them was mediating between a troll and a human!”

“That's it, then. That's the connection!” John threw back the covers and slid out of bed, realizing with some irritation that he was hooked up to an IV and pulling it out, careless of the trickle of blood it left. He stumbled a little as he took to his feet, underestimating how sore his muscles were, then began pacing around the room. “They were all clubbed to death. Clubs is the sign for the ashen quadrant. The petal! One leaf of three! That's what it stood for!”

“But why would Gamzee target them?” Karkat asked as he got up as well.

“Woah, should you be getting up? You're in here for a head injury!” John exclaimed, rushing to his side.

“So are you, fucktard,” the troll said acidly. “And my head's a lot tougher than yours.”

“But you almost died,” John said worriedly. “Slick tried to strangle you!”

“And I still can't believe he went easy on me. Guess he has a soft spot for me after all.”

“Easy—soft—what?” he spluttered. Karkat shook his head and grinned darkly.

“I know for a _fact_ he still had several more knives up his sleeves. He could have killed me instantly, or left me bedridden for months. Instead, look at me! I'm already rested and ready to go.” He pulled out his IV as well, sliding out of bed and stretching the kinks out of his back. “Now where do they keep the gauze, you're dripping all over the place.”

“Oh,” John said with mild surprise as he stared at the red rivulets on his arm, which had smeared all over his hospital gown. Karkat dug through the drawers until he found what he needed, cleaning and bandaging the both of them up.

“I'm not about to let you run off and face a murderer alone, now am I?” the troll pointed out. John rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Much less in _that_. They washed our clothes for us, since they were sopping wet and you had nothing else. Why don't we get dressed while you answer my question?”

“Ques—oh.” They made a point of turning away as they slipped into their fresh, dry (and more decent) clothes. “I don't think Gamzee picked the targets. I think he just did the dirty work for his partner. His partner!” he hissed, tugging forcefully on his vest. “It must be someone who wants to sabotage troll/human relations! But who would do that? A speciesist? One of Feferi and Sollux's rivals? Someone who hates them, personally?”

Karkat made a face as he pulled on his shoes— _they_ were still wet. He peeked behind him, both relieved and disappointed to find John decent as well. “Maybe it's a plot by the Condesce. Rumor has it she's worried that Feferi's rise to political power will eventually dethrone her. Plus she hates the thought of humans and trolls paired together.”

“Maybe,” John said distractedly, turning around to face him, “but I don't think she could plan anything like that without wind of it getting to all the watchdogs that keep an eye on her. I think this is still bound within Can City. Think, John, think! This is the last piece of the puzzle, all you need to do is step back and look at the whole picture!”

Karkat watched in fascination as John's expressions shifted rapidly, from frustration to studiousness to enlightenment, his eyes darting back and forth as he stared at the images in his head. Even if he hadn't been thinking out loud, the troll felt he could follow his thoughts by the look on his face.

“Oh!” the detective looked up, eyes wide. “Duality! But...” his brows drew together in confusion. “How? He wasn't there... unless!” Hands opened wide and closed in rapid succession. “It could only work because it was her! He had the knowhow! It was the only way to duplicate the effect! But... how did they achieve the effect in the first place?” Eyes gazed at the ceiling, searching the plain white surface for answers. “Of course. I discounted it out of hand, but it's _not_ impossible! Not with _that! That's_ what the Midnight Crew were providing! No one would find it out of character for Gamzee to purchase it, but it wasn't for himself!”

“What?” Karkat asked, torn between watching the show and his burning curiosity. John blinked and looked at him, but his focus was miles away. He ran forward and gripped the troll's shoulders, shaking him slightly.

“He even said it! Right to my face! What an _actor_ he must be, what _audacity!_ ” His face froze, and then a look of horrified sadness crept over his features. “Unless... he wasn't acting. Duality. What if he doesn't know? He was called. He rang the doorbell... _Part Timer_. Oh my _gog_ , Karkat, what if he doesn't even _know?!_ ”

“Know _what?_ Who?” Karkat shouted, catching wind of John's fear and worry.

“That he--”

At that moment the door to their room burst open, and John immediately clammed up. A pale-faced, hassled-looking nurse took one look at them and breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, good, you're still safe. I mean, awake. I mean, oh! You're awake now!” She coughed and flashed them a very unconvincing smile of reassurance.

Karkat's eyes took in the movement of people running up and down the hallways. “What's going on?” he asked suspiciously.

“N-nothing!” she stuttered, breaking out into a sweat. At the twin glares she received, though, she gave a great sigh and confessed. “It seems there was patient here under police guard, and we just discovered that he's missing!”

“ _Missing?_ Are we talking about Gamzee Makara?”

“Yes, that's the one! You'd hardly think a man that huge could sneak unnoticed out of a busy hospital, but when the nurse went in to check on his condition, there was an unconscious policeman under the covers instead, hooked up to the monitors! We're not even sure when he vanished; his condition had stabilized, so we were only checking on him once an hour!”

“ _Fuck!_ ” John cursed, pacing furiously. He spun around to face his matesprit. “Karkat, how long have you been awake?”

“Half an hour, maybe? I only woke around fifteen minutes before you did. Why?”

“I thought it was a dream!” he muttered. “Gamzee was in here, standing over us! He probably overheard Terezi when she was running her mouth everywhere, and came to confirm it!”

“But that means--”

“Terezi is in danger!”

Karkat snarled, ready to run out the door that very second. John grabbed his arm and held him back, though. “Wait, we need a plan! We can't just barge in all gung ho; we'll just get killed, and the mastermind will escape! Besides that, we don't even know where she is!”

“Then what should we do?” he shrieked, clearly distraught.

“We cool down and use our heads,” he said firmly. “I've been slacking off on that lately, but it's time to focus!” His eyes darted back and forth in thought for a few seconds, before spinning around to the nurse. “Do you have medical-grade sopor in stock?”

“Of course, but we're not going to just hand it out--”

“Tell the police chief it's an emergency, he'll sign off for it. Karkat! Lend me your phone.” The troll silently handed the object over, and the detective quickly scrolled through its memory. Lifting it to his ear, he paced impatiently until the line was picked up on the other end. “Hey, Vriska? It's John. I need to call in that favor you owe me. You and Terezi were old pals once, right? Do you think you can use your powers to figure out where she is now?”

There was an agonizingly long pause. “She's not, um... hurt, is she? Oh thank gog. Where is she? Really?” There was another pause, as John thought. “Say... is Eridan with you?”

He took a deep breath, the very picture of a man who was hoping he wouldn't regret what he said next.

“Can I borrow the both of you?”

* * *

The Can City Amphitheater was a place that felt secluded yet open at the same time. Built into a steep basin, the tiered chairs and balcony were protected by a roof, yet there were no walls. Beyond the large, covered structure stretched a wide expanse of trim lawn, on which a person could sit and still have a perfect view of the stage thanks to the height of the balcony. The entire basin was surrounded by shady trees and a tall fence, the only entrance guarded by gates and a ticket booth. John had been here many times before, with Dave to see touring musicians or with Rose and Kanaya to see ballets or orchestras. Summer was a busy time for the theater, but there were no shows this particular night. The ticket booth was shuttered and dark, the place quiet and deserted.

However, one of the gates was open, its lock broken. Someone was standing in front of it, arms crossed and glaring. John and Karkat approached the person quietly. The troll gasped softly as they got close enough to recognize the black and white suit, but the detective didn't bat an eye.

“Hello, Sollux,” John said softly.

The figure jumped, spinning around to stare at them with his dissonant eyes widened in surprise. “Egbert?”

“The one and only.”

“Gog, you just about gave me a heart-attack,” he lisped. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing!”

Sollux sighed. “It just had to be _you_ , didn't it? Guess the secret is out, now.”

“What secret, Mr. Captor?” John asked neutrally. Karkat darted his eyes back and forth between the two of them, not liking the way this looked and afraid to jump to any conclusions.

The possible Vice-Mayor-to-Be drooped his shoulders in defeat. “That I've been covering up for Gamzee every time he gets in trouble. I know I should just let him suffer the consequences of his own actions, but... it's hard, you know? He is a high-blood, after all, but more than that, he's my friend! Plus, I'm not sure he's capable of understanding much of anything anymore. It makes me sad, but I don't think there's much left in his head. He's been eating raw sopor slime for too many years.” He gestured to the broken, ajar gate. “Anyway, he gave me a call saying he felt like watching a show, but there was no one at the theater, and now a security guard was yelling at him and shouting about things like 'vandalism' and 'breaking and entering.' Guess it's time to go smooth things over _again_.”

“Were you aware that Gamzee is supposed to be at the hospital right now, under police guard?”

Sollux stared at him. “He wasn't... released? He said they'd discharged him...”

“No. He was not. In fact, if he's well enough to be up and about, then he should be in jail.”

“For what? What did he do now?”

John leaned forward, staring intently into Sollux's eyes. “Murder.”

The troll was temporarily speechless. His mouth worked, but no sound came out. Finally, he found enough of his voice to squeak out: “What?”

“Several murders, in fact. Gruesome, violent murders. Including that of your moirail, Aradia.”

“That's... no! No, that can't be! He'd never hurt a soul!”

“Weren't you saying you'd be glad to pound into submission the person who killed her? This is your big chance!”

“No! It can't be him!” Red and blue flashes of lightning began dancing around his head as he gripped it in his hands. “Why would he... not... no! I'll kill him! I don't believe you! I can't believe you! _I'll kill him!_ ” With a furious, guttural roar, he spun around and bolted through the open gate, crackling with psychic energy.

“Should you have done that?” Karkat asked apprehensively. John met his eyes, looking sad.

“I have to. It's the only way to reveal the mastermind. There's no point if we only get one of them.”

“Are... are you saying... what _are_ you saying?”

“Come on,” John said, turning to chase after the flashing trail of red and blue. “We have an auspistice to rescue!”

Face twisted with apprehension, the troll followed.

* * *

“Can I go yet, Gamzee?” Terezi asked again, kicking her feet back and forth from her seat on the edge of the stage. It had been exciting and all, sneaking around where they didn't belong and snooping backstage—a place someone like her would probably never see unless Dave decided to branch out from his more nightclub-oriented work—but she really did have other places to be.

“Naw, not yet!” he said in his whimsically swaying voice. He was sitting beside her, his giant form slouched over. “Just wait a little longer! I promise, there'll be an amazing show. Motherfucking miracles like you wouldn't believe! There'll be colors everywhere; sparkly red and glittery blue and pretty, pretty teal.”

“I love red!” Terezi said with a grin. “Red tastes the best, and teal is my color!”

“Exactly, my legislacerating sister! The red comes standard, but I arranged the teal just for you.”

“Aww, thanks! You're so sweet, Gamzee.” She kicked her feet some more, swinging her stiletto heels back and forth. “I just can't understand why Nepeta keeps hanging back! What's not to like about you?”

“I don't get it either, man. She says there's something about my scent that makes her nervous.”

“Scent? _Obviously_ she's been hanging out with Equius so long that his B.O. has fried her sense of smell! Kanaya's going to have to try a lot harder if she wants to drag you two into the ashen quadrant with her!” The pointy-horned troll suddenly leaped to her feet in excitement. “Oh, guess what! I think I finally got that quad filled, myself!”

“Yeah, I heard,” he responded as she paced behind him. “You were telling everyone about it at the hospital.”

“Oh yeah. Well, you can hear it again!” She stuck out her tongue at his back, then grinned. “I'm so excited! John and Karkles are just _perfect_ for each other, and now we can be even closer! Man, I've missed Karkat, but we just didn't work out as matesprits. Meanwhile, John is like _the best colleague ever!_ He really gets it, you know? All evildoers should be brought to justice! But they've both been so lonely. As soon as I saw the way they clicked, I knew I had to get them together!”

“That sounds real... nice. Motherfucking miracle of love, right there.”

Terezi pouted. “You don't sound very enthused!”

“Do I not? Sorry. They didn't give me any slime at the hospital. I'm feeling it, sister.”

“Poor thing,” she said, reaching down to pat his muscular shoulder. “Why didn't you stop home first and get a fix?”

“I needed a break. That shit's a downer, you know? Holds you back. Kills the mind. Saps the STRENGTH, motherfucker!”

Terezi jumped, startled by his sudden increase in volume. “Are you thinking of trying Equius's shtick in order to get in good with Nepeta? I suspect she'd rather not have _two_ people like that!”

“I've got my own tricks, thanks. I don't FUCKING NEED any of that disgrace's.”

The lady troll frowned. “Don't say anything like that around her! You'll blow any chance you might have had if she catches wind that you feel that way about her moirail!”

“I don't need her, either. She's just FUCKING CONVENIENT!”

Terezi's jaw dropped. “Woah, Gamzee! What the hell? What on earth's gotten in to you?”

The wild-haired troll pulled his feet onto the stage and slowly stood up to his full height, towering ominously above her. “The colors are coming early,” he remarked casually, looking off into the distance.

She turned to follow his gaze, noticing a crackling of blue and red lights glowing at the top of the amphitheater's lawn. “What is that?” she asked, sniffing the air in puzzlement. “Cop cars?” The lights grew brighter, revealing themselves to be centered on a single figure that was approaching them at full speed. Two other dark forms followed behind, but they were almost unnoticeable next to the distracting show provided by the first. “No, that smells like appleberry blast! Sollux?”

“GUESS THE MOTHERFUCKING JIG IS UP! He looks like he's got a bee in his bonnet.”

Like an avenging hero, Sollux sprinted down the stairs and used his power to fly straight over the orchestra pit and land with a thud on the stage. “Gamzee!” he shrieked, “tell me it's not true!”

Uncertain of what was going on, Terezi hid behind the clown, peeking out from around his side. The troll in question cocked his head, which was a fairly impressive gesture considering the length of his horns. “What not true thing should I be telling you?”

“Did you do it? Are you the serial killer? _Did you kill Aradia?_ ”

Before Gamzee could answer, he was interrupted by Terezi's disbelieving laugh. “Seriously? That's what this is about? What on earth would give you an idea like that?”

“Yeah, man, you're going about this all wrong,” Gamzee said, sounding like his normal self. Sollux hesitated, badly wanting to believe them.

But then Gamzee continued. “If you're going to accuse a brother of murder, motherfucker, you should MAKE SURE HE DOESN'T HAVE ANY HOSTAGES FIRST!” Terezi stared up at him, unusually slow on the uptake. A long, blood-splattered juggling club appeared in his hands, rose up into the air, then swung down toward her at skull-cracking speeds.

For a moment it seemed as if time had frozen, Terezi's red, unseeing eyes growing wide behind her black shades as the club hovered a hand's breadth away from her head. Then Gamzee shook as he struggled to move the weapon further, and it became evident that Sollux had halted the blow with his telekinetic power.

“ _Move_ , Terezi!” a familiar voice shouted. She stumbled backwards, turning to discover her new quadrant-mates climbing up onto the stage. John and Karkat ran to her side, breathing harshly. “Thank _gog_ you're okay! What were you thinking, going somewhere alone with a murder suspect!”

“He said he'd been cleared,” she said weakly. “Why else would he be out and about?”

“Because he's devious, and more clever then I gave him credit for,” John said darkly. “He must have built up a partial immunity to the toxins in raw sopor. It's probably the only reason he's lived this long.”

As they watched, the troll in question turned away from them, focusing on the source of his restraint. “You'll have to try harder than that,” he said casually as he took a step forward.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Sollux spat, breaking out into a sweat. His face contorted with effort as he struggled to keep the monster at bay, sparks shooting from his eyes. “When did you get this strong!”

“I've ALWAYS BEEN THIS STRONG, MOTHERFUCKER!” he shouted, taking another step. His body was fully outlined by Sollux's flickering light, but it was doing little more than slow him down.

“Guys,” he said with a frantic look to the other three. “You'd better run for it! I don't think I can hold him back for much longer!”

“We can't just leave you here,” Terezi cried, pulling the sword from her cane. “If Gamzee's really gone off the deep end, we need to stop him!” She turned to Karkat and John. “The four of us should be able to take him, right?”

Karkat opened his mouth, but couldn't find his voice. He looked to his matesprit, worry on his face. John's eyes were narrowed, but it wasn't the crazed clown that he was glaring at. “Wait,” he whispered.

“Wait? For what?! He's going to hurt Sollux!”

“No, he's not,” John said with certainty. Terezi gaped at him, clicked her shark teeth shut, and spun around to watch.

“What are you waiting for?” the four-horned troll gasped, holding his hands up defensively as the high-blood pushed inevitably closer. “Get out of here!”

“Maybe they're entranced,” Gamzee suggested, stepping closer as Sollux stepped back. “Maybe they CAN'T FUCKING LOOK AWAY from all those pretty, pretty colors.”

Another step forward, another step back.

“I can't believe you're behind this. I'm going to _kill_ you, you _complete monster!_ ”

“That hurts me, bro. But I don't think you can do it. You don't have the MOTHERFUCKING POWER!” He pulled a bottle out of his inventory. “Not without this.”

John smiled grimly while his companions stared in surprise. Sollux glared at the bottle, growing, if possible, even angrier. “Is that it, then? That's why you've gone nuts, that's why you're so strong all of a sudden? Sopor slime wasn't good enough for you anymore, you had to start taking _mind honey_ , too?”

Gamzee's grin was terrifying. “WRONG, MOTHERFUCKER! I'm not taking anything at all. This is my SOBER FACE!” He lunged forward, Sollux flinched back, and his foot slipped off the edge of the stage. Concentration lost, his psychic hold evaporated as he teetered precariously backwards. His fall into the orchestra pit was averted, however, when Gamzee seized him by the front of his dress shirt and hoisted him into the air.

“Got a present for ya,” he chuckled as Sollux struggled against his hold, one black shoe and one white kicking uselessly in the air. “It's your favorite.”

The smaller troll eyed the mind honey with something akin to panic. “Get that shit away from me, you asshole! Do you know what that stuff does to me?”

“BETTER THAN YOU DO, MOTHERFUCKER,” he laughed as he took a long swig from the bottle. Then he tossed it away, grabbed his captive with both hands, and forced a kiss upon his lips.

It was horrifying, yet no one could look away. Trickles of honey dripped down Sollux's chin, mirroring the yellow tears that were starting to leak from his eyes as he struggled uselessly against the violation. Gamzee stroked his throat almost tenderly, encouraging him to swallow the thick substance even as he fed him more of it. As his resistance faded and he began to go limp, his aggressor set his feet gently back on the stage. Sollux made no effort to support his own weight, so Gamzee clutched the unresisting form closer, bending him backwards and kissing him passionately. Slender arms dangled uselessly, then began to twitch. As if recovering from momentary unconsciousness, the smaller troll slowly raised his arms up to Gamzee's shoulders and wrapped them around his neck.

Then Sollux began kissing back.

There was no visible sign that the psychic's power was at work, yet the air felt even more electric than before. As his eyes slowly opened, the dark stage was lit by an ominous light, coming from the intense glow emitted by Sollux's eyes, which were now both red. He pushed his shades up to sit on top of his head as he pulled away from Gamzee's embrace, flashing his blinding gaze in the other three's direction. He licked his lips, cleaning up the last bit of honey and wiping away his tears with an uncaring brush of his hand.

“Well, this is unfortunate,” he lisped flippantly. “Now we have to kill those two as well.”

Terezi was shocked. Karkat was torn between sorrow and anger. John was triumphant.

“Why?” Karkat asked, his voice strained. “Why did you kill all those people?”

“Eh. Because my matesprit wanted to spill some blood, and I'm a supportive kind of guy.”

“But _Feferi_ is your matesprit,” Terezi pointed out, alarmed.

Sollux growled. “Fef is _Sollux's_ matesprit. Gamz is mine.” He turned and flashed the troll a dark smile, which was returned with a gleeful, manic grin. “And since I needed to mess up his plans anyway, it only made sense to kill two birds with one stone.”

“But why target auspistices? If you were trying to keep trolls and humans from dating, why not kill the couples?”

“Isn't it obvious, KK? That would just make them tragic heroes. It's easy to die for someone, but so much harder to live with them. Without help, those couples are bound to break up sooner or later. One of them already has! And if such unions always fail, then interspecies romance will gain the stigma of being unworkable. Simple as that!”

“What?” Terezi asked, her mouth trying to twist into a surprise noodle. “Why would you even want that? That's the exact opposite of what you've always been working for!”

“Exactly!” he said with enthusiasm. “You've got a good head on your shoulders, TZ, it's a shame you had to go and get yourself involved. It's _because_ he's trying so hard for this that I have to oppose him! Because that's what I am. An opposite.” With a theatrical wave of his hand, the three of them found themselves unable to move, surrounded by a jagged red glow.

“ _That's_ why you killed all those people?” Karkat spat as he struggled against the telekinetic hold. “Just to spite your other self? You two killed your own moirails for such a stupid, pointless reason?!”

“Don't be silly. We killed _each other's_ moirails for that. We thought they at least deserved to serve as our alibis.”

“Too bad that didn't work,” John said softly.

For the first time, Sollux focused his attention on the human who'd been silent up until now. He crooked his finger and the detective floated forward, stopping just in front of him. “Let me guess. You figured everything out, huh?”

“Yup. It was easy once I had the final clue.”

“Prove it, Mr. Fancy-Pants Genius. Let's hear your deduction show.”

John smiled grimly. “We've all heard your anti-drug speech before, about how in your youth you accidentally killed your own lusus thanks to the effects of mind honey. However, sometime recently you must have discovered that you were strong enough now to control the power increase, but at the cost of switching to a single side of your bi-polarity. When the effect wore off, you had no memory of the incident. Meanwhile, Gamzee here,” he indicated with a shift of his eyes, “has gone quite dark over the years, but the sopor keeps him mellow. I guess you could say you both have a duality caused by drugs!”

“Catchy.”

“You two discovered each other, made your psychotic partnership, and began your killing spree. You would make the plans in advance, then Gamzee would purposefully sober up as the time approached. He would call your ignorant self and make up some reason for you to come meet him, and when you arrived he would overwhelm and drug you. The two of you would then enact your murder plans. Your increased power made it easy to forcefully trot a person over to a quiet place, where Gamzee would beat them to death as you held them still. Then he would mark them with their own weapon and you would burn them with your eye-beams, your other self none-the-wiser. But! Then you decided to move on to targets a little closer to home.”

“AA.”

“Aradia. You knew you would be a suspect if she were to die, so you had to make yourself an alibi. You decided to take advantage of her excessive use of robotic enhancements. A programming genius like you? It was easy to hack into her cybernetics. With a device that you created beforehand, Gamzee was able to control her like a doll, holding her still just like you would have done. It was a little trickier to replicate the burn, and it came out a bit sloppy, but no one thought anything of it.”

“Except you, of course.”

“The plan worked so well, you decided to let Tavros provide _his_ moirail's alibi as well. And that's where you _failed_.”

Sollux growled, his red eyes narrowing.

“You decided to brag, didn't you? You're a politician, you love the sound of your own voice. You felt so secure, able as you were to put to sleep all the winged creatures he summoned to defend himself, that you let your mouth run. You forgot that Tavros's power has a much, _much_ greater range than yours, even with your unfair advantage. You realized it too late: with bees as a hint for mind honey, Tavros was using his last moments to finger you _and_ your accomplice!”

With a snarl, Sollux gestured sharply with his arm, hoisting John into the air and slamming him down hard on his back. Gamzee chuckled as the detective wheezed, the air knocked out of him.

“Aw, don't feel bad, Honey Bee,” he rumbled, leaning his towering form over to nuzzle his part-time matesprit. “It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“But we could have gone for _so much longer!_ That stupid winged freak just _had_ to ruin everything, and this stupid detective had to figure it all out! Even after we kill him, we can't go back to normal. My other self knows you're the murderer now! The fool will probably try to turn you in the moment he takes over. And without you to give me mind honey, who knows how long it'll be before I get to change back? My existence is at stake, here!”

“Then let's go out with a MOTHERFUCKING BANG!” Gamzee crowed. “The night is young, after all. So many colors, so little time to SPILL THEM ALL!”

Sollux cackled, red lightning sparking around his body. “You're right. Let's make this a bloodbath they'll never forget! If nothing else, Fef will be sunk at the polls when her running mate turns out to be a mass-murderer!”

Terezi let out a shriek as she suddenly flew through the air, coming to a stop right in front of Gamzee. Karkat found himself thrown to the ground next to his new matesprit, watching helplessly as the giant raised twin clubs into the air above his old one.

“Wait,” John coughed, struggling to breath again. “Aren't you forgetting something?”

Sollux heaved a great sigh. “What? You want to beg for mercy like the others?”

“You never asked me the most important question of all!”

Gamzee paused, waiting for Sollux to resolve the issue so he could start swinging in peace. “Dare I ask what that would be?” the mastermind inquired.

“Why would a supposed genius confront and provoke two incredibly powerful and dangerous murderers without police backup?”

Sollux pondered that. “That is a good question. You might have stood a chance if you'd stopped Gamzee before he woke me up. I suppose you wanted to catch us both? Good luck on that, now that I'm here.”

“Ah, but I know something you don't!” John confessed as he struggled in vain to sit up.

“Such as?”

John closed his eyes. A hush seemed to fall over the dark amphitheater, cut off as it was from the breeze and the moon, lit only by the flickering red glare of psychic power. Unbeknownst to the others, John felt a questioning mind brush against his own. He tried to send an affirmative thought back.

He opened his eyes, pinning Sollux with his piercing blue glare as he spoke. “Sopor slime counters mind honey.”

The handsome troll blinked. “So? What does that have to do with—AH!” Spinning around, he furiously sought out the source of the sudden pain in his back, lightning shooting out across the basin. On the crest of the hill stood two figures; the shapely silhouettes of a curvy woman and a muscular man. Their horns made them instantly recognizable as Vriska Serket and Eridan Ampora, the latter lowering what appeared to be a scoped dart gun.

Realization creeping across his face, Sollux reached behind himself and pulled the dart out of his back, examining it with horror. The glass vial was almost empty, the tiny bit of liquid left inside bearing the telltale green of sopor. Furious, the troll lashed out with his power at the two newcomers, but they quickly retreated from his sight. As his strength gave out and he fell to his knees, Gamzee dropped the clubs and moved cautiously to his side, concerned. The flickering of red lightning grew erratic, and its hold on the three captives evaporated.

“You okay, Honey Bee?” he asked, stroking the short, sleek hair with one of his massive hands.

Sollux shook his head, covering his face. “I'm losing it, Gamz. I'm fading!”

The giant troll pulled his hand away. “Part Timer's taking over?”

“E-e-even w-w-worse” he stuttered as he began to convulse. Collapsing onto the stage, Sollux thrashed as if having a seizure, then suddenly grew still.

It was silent for a moment. “Sol?” Karkat whispered as he sat up, staring at the unmoving form with apprehension. It stirred, rolling over to its back.

“No.”

Karkat flinched. “Who are you now?”

The figure opened its eyes. They were both a solid, glowing blue. “I am... an opposite.”

“Really?” John inquired as he propped himself up, staring. “I thought you would go back to normal, not shift to another pole.”

“I...” he trailed off, looking around in horror. Once again the stage glowed with the light from his eyes, though not as brightly as before. “I... remember.” Blue lightning began to crackle as yellow tears flowed down his face. “I remember what they did. Oh, _gog!_ ”

John stared sadly as Sollux's new personality shuddered and sobbed. He wasn't sure if this was worse than if he had returned to normal or not. On the one hand, normal Sollux would have been arrested for crimes he didn't even remember committing. On the other hand, this one had the memories _and_ the guilt.

“Aradia... Tavros... you trusted us! And those poor people... the looks on their faces... the blood!”

“Motherfucking miracles,” Gamzee said dreamily. Sollux tensed up all over, turning very slowly to look at his partner in crime.

“You... this is all your fault! You started this! We would never have fragmented if you hadn't drugged us in the first place just to see the _fucking colors_ we would make!”

Gamzee heaved a great, rattling sigh, shaking his head. “Goodbye, Honey Bee,” he said, more to himself than to the person addressing him. Standing laboriously back to his full height, he whipped out another set of clubs and began juggling, all four of them streaked with different shades of dried blood. “Guess I'll be performing this finale alone.”

With movements so fast the eye could barely see, the murderous clown sent all four clubs flying, each toward a different person's head. Not a one of them made contact, however, as Sollux enveloped them in a jagged blue light. “I don't think so, monster,” he growled, flinging the weapons right back. “The finale stays, but the script has changed!”

Gamzee shielded his head from the first round of blows, then caught the weapons out of the air as they tried to make another pass. “Then I'll improv, brother. LET'S BRING DOWN THE FUCKING CIRCUS TENT!” Switching all four clubs to one hand, he darted over to the side of the stage, gripped the thick, heavy curtain with his other hand, and gave it a mighty pull. The fabric shuddered against his weight, but it was no match for his enormous strength and began to rip at the couplings, one by one. As it was torn off the rails, Gamzee swung his arm wide and ran toward them, flinging the expanse of cloth over their heads.

Sollux pushed against it with his power, but the ends still fluttered to the ground around them like a tent with no beams. For a moment they all lost sight of their attacker, lost in a world of flickering blue light and shadowy red velour. A moment was all it took.

There was a sickening, gristly crack followed by a terrible shriek of pain. The curtain collapsed on top of them as the blue light vanished, the weight of the fabric knocking them off their feet.

“Karkat? Terezi?” John called in a worried voice. This was getting rapidly out of hand! He tried to crawl toward the edge of the curtain, but he was no longer certain which way was closest, and it was surprisingly hard to move. Panic began to seize him as he heard heavy footsteps approaching. There was no way any of them could dodge Gamzee's attacks like this!

There were several ripping sounds a second later. Karkat tore through the cloth with his sickles, turning to see that Terezi was doing the same with her cane sword. That left only two lumps under the curtain; one worryingly still and the other struggling like a little lost wriggler.

“I'm here, John!” Karkat called as he ran to the moving figure's side, crouching into a defensive stance as Gamzee walked menacingly towards them. Terezi joined them as well, taking the chance to cut John free. The detective gasped like he was emerging from underwater, blinking owlishly in the darkness as he straightened his glasses. As the only one present without night vision or a keen nose, he was at a sore disadvantage. The lady troll pulled him to his feet and together they backed away from the villain, moving in unison like three leaves of a single clover.

  


Gamzee chuckled maniacally, his grin enormous, his eyes glittering, his mane of hair wild. The clubs in his hands dragged along the stage floor, the sound muffled by folds upon folds of velvety cloth. “FOR MY NEXT PERFORMANCE,” he screeched, “I'LL NEED THREE VOLUNTEERS FROM THE AUDIENCE!” He hoisted his weapons into the air and began to juggle them once more. “GET READY TO DISAPPEAR, MOTHERFUCKERS!”

John pulled out his heaviest mallet, preparing, like the other two, to do his best to block the blows. Before the clubs could fly, however, a distant sound reached their ears, growing louder by the second. Police sirens.

“Good job, Vriska!” John muttered in relief. The two trolls must have called for help the moment they were forced to retreat. He had instructed them to wait until he'd gotten the proof he needed, and they had given him that. Now it was time for the cavalry to arrive.

Gamzee stopped juggling, pausing to listen. His gleeful expression twisted into a scowl, which was no less terrifying. “There's a shade of blue and red I _didn't_ want to see,” he growled. “Guess there's no time to play around.” His eyes shifted back to them, cold and pitiless as his gaze met each of theirs in slow succession. “Two reds and a teal... better stagger the colors. Which one of you MOTHERFUCKING BROS WANTS TO GO FIRST?”

As he lunged toward them, John recoiled and tripped over a fold in the curtain. He grabbed a hold of Karkat as he fell, pulling him down too. Gamzee's two-club attack swung through the air that Karkat's head had occupied a split-second before, narrowly missing him. As his other hand rose up to deliver a lethal downswing, he was suddenly bathed in a bright swath of flaming blue energy.

The murderer's roar of pain echoed from roof to balcony. Morbidly entranced, John, Karkat and Terezi could only stare in shock as Gamzee's mass of hair burned up and his thick, gray skin began to blacken and crisp. Bellowing in rage, he spun around and tried to block the beams of light with his clubs, leaning into the force as he began to charge toward his attacker.

Barely visible past the blinding light was its source; Sollux, struggling to stand in the middle of a circle of charred curtain, clutching his chest and shoulder. Blood oozed from his mouth, painting his monochrome clothing with streaks of yellow. His attempt to climb to his feet failed, so he settled for rising to one knee, all of his concentration focused on channeling his power at its maximum strength. Just like he'd done to his lusus so long ago, Sollux was cooking his friend from the outside in.

Gamzee wasn't going to go down without a fight, though. Blessed with the physical toughness and psychic resistance afforded to him as a high-blood, the giant was closing the distance between them like an inevitable tide. Gritting his teeth, Sollux tried to increase his power even further, until even his own face was cracking and charring. Streaks of blue lightning sparked around them like a storm, two foes caught in their own personal hurricane.

Gamzee reached his partner and raised his clubs high. Sollux's power began to splutter and suddenly vanished, plunging the amphitheater in darkness. For a moment, all that John and Karkat could do was blink furiously, trying to shake off the afterimages and readjust to the darkness. As the blue and red flash of police lights joined the wail of sirens, the two figures finally came back into focus.

Sollux's eyes had completely burned away, leaving only two blackened pits where they should have been. Gamzee, still towering above him with his weapons suspended over his head, was charred from head to toe, his long wavy horns the only recognizable part of him left. Without the force of power pushing against him, the unbalanced corpse slowly succumbed to gravity, toppling over on top of its blinded opponent.

“Sol!” Karkat yelped, and the three of them ran to his side. Gamzee's body was too hot to touch, but together they managed to lever John's mallet underneath it and roll the heavy mass over. Sollux was... not looking so good. His breath came in rapid, shallow gasps, and it was obvious that his ribs were a mess. The short contact he'd had with Gamzee's burning, crushing weight hadn't helped either.

“Fef?” he managed to gasp between pants.

“No,” Terezi said, teal tears welling up in her eyes as she took his hand. “It's just us.”

“TZ?”

“That's right. And Karkles and John.”

“KK...”

“Right here,” the troll said as he crouched beside him.

“I'm glad... you're okay.” Karkat's fangs dug into his lip, the trail of red grief welling up to join the tears running down his cheeks. “Take good... care of them... TZ. Living... is so much... harder. John?”

The detective flinched, his hands clenching tightly. “I... this is my fault! I was a fool, to think it was a good idea to charge in here and show off! Oh my _gog_ , you're—this is terrible!”

“This is... perfect.”

“What?!” he cried, his voice cracking.

“I... had to... save... their plan.” His wheezing breath was coming slower now, weaker. “Fef's... and... my... self's.” With sorrow they realized they were still speaking to Sollux's newly born opposite. He had done all he could to make up for his other side's sins. “A... favor... please...” he asked, his voice growing softer and softer.

John knelt down, joining the other two as they leaned closer to hear his last words. “What is it?”

Despite the burned out sockets of his eyes, they could almost feel him staring into their souls, pleading with them to understand. “Can... you... keep... a... secret?” he whispered, then breathed no more.

It was a silent scene that Vriska, Eridan, and Chief Sleuth encountered as they charged into the amphitheater. They surveyed the surroundings with wide eyes, taking in the two mutilated bodies laying side by side on top of an expanse of deep red curtain folds. The stench of burned flesh was almost nauseating. PS took one look at his nephew—who was looking as lost as he had when he found his father's body—and ran forward to envelop him in a hug. A manly hug, full of mangrit and mettle, and not at all the kind of hug that an adult gives to a grieving child.

“John. Are you okay?”

His nephew nodded bleakly. Sleuth sighed in relief, pulling back to take stock of the situation. “I'm glad to see you three all are alright. But who died? Did the serial murderer do this, or... does one of those bodies belong to him?”

John looked up blankly at Vriska and Eridan. “What have they told you so far?”

“Only that you had blown the case wide open but needed some help, fast.”

The detective looked back and forth between the two trolls, but Vriska merely arched a brow, as if to say 'it's up to you.' Even though they only witnessed the beginning of the messy affair, it couldn't have been too hard for them to deduce who killed who. John looked away, exchanging glances with his his matesprit and auspistice instead. Terezi bit her lip as she sensed his gaze, pushing the shades he bought so very long ago up her nose to camouflage a nod. Karkat looked troubled, but he closed his eyes in resignation.

John turned back to his uncle, hesitated for only a moment, then opened his mouth to speak.

* * *

The next morning, every front-page headline proclaimed the story in letters of bold black on white; how the Vice-Mayoral candidate Sollux Captor had heroically sacrificed his life to bring the Serial Murderer's reign of terror to an end.

Feferi was distraught, of course, but her new moirail was uniquely suited to understand her pain. Jade had finally calmed down enough to hear the story of Tavros' death properly, and the two women recovered from their grief remarkably quickly thanks to the knowledge of their matesprits' valiant roles in putting an end to the killings. Of course, their sadness was also lifted by the nervous, excited anticipation they felt over what was brewing inside Jade's womb.

It was something of a day for headlines.

* * *


	6. Epilogue: Years in the Future, But Not Many

“You know, you two are adorable when you sleep.”

Karkat slowly forced his eyes open, blinking blearily at the figure at the foot of the recuperabed. Morning sunlight was streaming in through the open window blinds, casting slats of illumination over the source of their wake-up call. “Dammit, who let you in here, Terezi,” he grumbled, voice thick with sleepiness.

“Jade, of course. This is her place, after all.”

“Oh, yeah.” He made a disgruntled noise. “As soon as our apartment is rebuilt, we're getting the fuck out of here.”

“Aw, but it's so much more convenient to have you staying at the lab! You're closer, you have all the equipment you could possibly need, and with all of Jade's security, it'd be nearly impossible for another one of your enemies to plant explosives in your living room!”

“Jegus, you're never going to let that go, are you.”

Terezi flashed her teeth in a wide grin. “Neither will your old landlord.”

“Aw... fuck.”

The cackle that followed was enough to finally stir John from his slumber. He groaned at the disturbance and clutched Karkat tighter, burying his face into the troll's chest. “Go away,” came the human's muffled reply.

“Aren't you the least bit curious to know why I'm here?”

“No.”

“Yes you are, don't even lie.”

“Am not.”

“You know, I can't help but notice that you both slept in the nude.”

There was a five second pause before John's head shot up, blushing vividly and staring down at his body. The sheet was twisted and only half covered them, revealing glimpses of boxers and wife-beaters. “No we didn't!” John stated accusingly.

“Oh, you had to check? That's _very_ interesting,” she said with a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows. John collapsed back upon the bed with a heavy sigh.

“Why are you here, Terezi?” he caved and asked.

“Because I was invited. As was Dave, and Rose, and Kanaya. They'll all be here soon, so Jade and Feferi asked me to drag you two out of bed as well.”

John and Karkat exchanged glances. “Is it... eclosion day?”

Terezi's grin was almost tender. “Yup! Jade spotted some movement in Rufio's cocoon this morning, and rips are beginning to form. Our sweet little pupa is finally about to emerge!”

There was a sudden flurry of movement as the two men scrambled out of bed. “Why didn't you just say that in the first place?” John griped as he hopped awkwardly into a pair of trousers.

“Because you're so fun to tease when you're not fully conscious!”

“Picking on me when I'm down,” he grumbled, but he was smiling. “I hope Rose gives you and Dave as much grief as you give us.”

“Oh, she's a _natural_ ,” Terezi sighed with a shake of her head. John snickered at the thought.

Little by little, time had been healing wounds. Feferi and Jade had recovered magnificently, bonded together, and taken the election by storm. Rufio was a celebrity long before he was ever born, and the desire to keep him safe from the media, the haters, and the curious had brought Jade, John, Dave and Rose together like they hadn't been since childhood. For the first time, the four of them united under a single cause, and along with their companions they were a force to be reckoned with.

A mayor with the highest blood-authority possible. A vice-mayor idolized by the masses for her inventions. A psychologist who had counseled the best and brightest. A fashion designer with influence over the rich and famous. A musician who controlled the beat of the youth. A prosecutor who struck fear in the hearts of the wicked. And two detectives, one of them an ex-FBI agent, who could uncover any secret.

As things turned out, Feferi had an unexpected advantage in making her plans a reality.

As soon as John and Karkat were passably decent, Terezi snagged them each by a hand and dragged them out the door of the bedroom Jade had loaned them. The three of them ran gracelessly down the hall, all excited grins or wide-eyed nervousness. They paused outside the door to Rufio's nursery, recovering their composure before slipping quietly inside.

The room was softly lit, the colorful wallpaper sporting a menagerie of cheerful animals. In the center stood a crib surrounded by monitoring equipment and cameras. Rufio was Jade's beloved child _and_ the first of his kind, and she doted on him and studied him simultaneously.

It had been a bit of a shock to everyone but Jade when he was born: aside from a faint gray pallor and orange eyes, the infant half-breed looked just like any human baby. He had candy red blood, four plump little limbs, no horns or teeth, and a strong set of lungs that he used to great effect. The scientist explained that he had to be that way, at least in infancy, or she couldn't have carried him in her womb. Feferi was a bit bewildered over what to do with the child, but Jade took to mothering, if not like a natural, at least with great enthusiasm. She nursed him like a proper mammal, cooed over his tiny fingers and toes, changed more diapers than she could count, and got very little sleep.

When the time came for her to start easing back into her duties as Vice-Mayor, Jade found babysitters in two very surprising sources: Dave and Kanaya. Neither could explain where the sudden instincts came from; the coolguy quite insistently attributed it to irony, while the rainbow drinker could only shrug her shoulders helplessly when asked.

As time passed, Rufio moved to solid foods with an amazing fervor, ballooning up into the chubbiest little baby they had ever seen. They probably shouldn't have been so surprised, then, when one morning Jade went in to fetch him from the crib and found a cocoon attached to the rails instead. Though disappointed that she could no longer hold her child close, Jade did her best to endure this new waiting period. She made sure to spend time with the pupa each day, reading him stories and telling him about the world. Then Dave started playing music and rapping for him, John started teaching him about mangrit and how to be a good observer, and before they knew it _everyone_ was taking a turn speaking quietly with the transforming tyke.

Though no one had seen his cute little face in months, they felt closer to him than ever before. And now, at last, he was being born once more.

The three ashen partners approached the crib reverently, joining the pale pair that was already present. In short order the other three guests arrived; Dave wrapping an arm around Terezi and Kanaya placing a gentle hand on Karkat's shoulder. Rose squeezed in beside Jade and gave the woman a quick hug before casting her lavender eyes on the orange cocoon, already split in several places.

“How's he doing?” she whispered.

“So far, so good. I think he's almost through!”

“Come on, Rufio!” Feferi cheered softly. “You can do it! We're so excited to see you again!”

“We're all waiting for you, little guy,” Dave added. The shadowy figure inside squirmed and pushed, splitting the cocoon's rips further. A horn suddenly tore through, a perfect miniature of his father's.

“Oh, I've missed you so much!” Jade said thickly, tears welling up in her eyes. The horn trembled and wriggled as Rufio struggled harder, and suddenly his head was through, the rest of him following easily. He landed on the mattress, damp and tired, and opened his eyes to look up at his family.

He was much skinnier now, looking more like a toddler than a baby. He still had the eyes of a troll, but his skin had lost what little gray pallor it had; the pale, pink tone of his skin was currently flushed copper in places from his exertions. He had inherited his father's blood, as well as his horns. There was little doubt that, one day, he would sprout wings as well.

“Oh, Rufio!” Jade sobbed as she leaned over, wrapping his damp body with a soft blanket and scooping him up. Tiny hands, now tipped with hardened claws, grasped her weakly.

“Ma-ma!”

* * *

“Man, that kid can eat,” Dave remarked. Everyone had eventually adjourned to the cafeteria, hungry from skipping breakfast. No one was as hungry as Rufio, of course, who was almost nauseating to watch.

“Well, what did you expect?” Rose said, arching an eyebrow. “He hasn't eaten since before he spun that cocoon. _Dabe_.”

“Whatever you say, _Roe_.”

“Aww, look at that mess,” John added, watching the other table where Jade and Kanaya were wiping flecks of food off of their arms. “I'm going to have to teach him how to aim for the face.”

Terezi laughed. “You're going to be the ornery uncle, aren't you, Don?”

“Absolutely, Shi!”

Karkat growled. “How long are you guys going to keep using those names?” Four heads turned to grin at him widely.

“What's the matter, Kitty? Don't you like them?”

“Yeah, Kitty, you should feel honored!”

“I think Kitty is a very nice name.”

“I hope he holds on to that one. _Kitty._ ”

“GOG DAM—I mean, uh, gog dammit,” he whispered, casting a nervous glance in Jade's direction. “If I find out one of you taught him that, I'm going to _kill you!_ ” Everyone had a good laugh at his expense.

“So, how long do you think _Feffy_ is going to be?” Terezi asked after they had gotten their giggles under control.

“Uhg, who knows,” John responded. “Could be all day. I don't know how she keeps track of all the promises for exclusive interviews she made in return for positive press.”

“At least she keeps them,” said Rose. “Things are pretty stable right now, but I'd hate to see public opinion go sour thanks to one offended reporter.”

“Oh! Speaking of which,” Karkat exclaimed, turning to his partner, “did you hear about Eridan and Vriska?”

“No, what about them?”

“Apparently, they put a stop to some hot-shot green-blood that was trying to organize a group to terrorize any couples that applied for lusus-ship.”

“What, did they bully his movement into the ground?”

“Actually, I think they seduced him.”

John stared at him blankly, then sighed. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Speaking of lusus-ship,” Rose purred, turning to her ashen quad-mates, “have you two given any more thought to the matter?”

Terezi froze, which made Dave smirk. “As you can see,” he said, giving her angular gray cheek a poke, “I'm still working on wearing her down.” She batted his hand away and pouted.

“I just don't think I'd be very good at it!”

“I know how you feel, dear,” Rose sympathized. “Kanaya has been dropping little hints here and there for me, as well.”

“Come on, Ter,” Dave said softly, wrapping an arm around her and nuzzling into her hair, deftly avoiding being poked by her horns or poking her with his red shades. “I'll be the stay-at-home dad, and you can be the breadwinner. Just think of how ironic it would be. The little tot could be Rufio's best bud, and then we would even be eligible to have a half-breed.”

“We would?” Terezi asked in confusion. “Even if we meet the requirements for matespritship and lusus-ship, I still can't incubate a wriggler, Dave!”

“No,” Rose said with a small smile. “But you have an auspistice who can.”

The troll gaped. “You... would do that for us?”

She nodded. “Though I think raising a single child would be more than enough for me, I wouldn't be averse to carrying one to term for my dear friends.”

Terezi's mouth continued to hang open, until Dave closed it for her with a click. She blushed teal and shook her head, disconcerted. “I'll think about it, okay,” she tried to grumble.

“That is so adorable, I could puke rainbows.”

With a start, the three remembered their audience. John was watching them with a shit-eating grin, Karkat looking away and scowling, the tips of his ears red.

“S-shut up, John!” Terezi huffed, blushing further. “What about you and Karkles, when are you two going to settle down and join the adopt-a-grub program?”

“Not for a _very long time_. If ever.”

Terezi scoffed. “If your living arrangements didn't regularly explode, I would _so_ be on your case right now.”

“That happened once! _Once!_ ” Karkat protested. “Come on, I spotted it in time to get us out of there!” She cackled at the expression on his face, which only made him even more flustered. “Give it a rest, you nook whiffing fuckass!”

“Fuckah!” Rufio suddenly squealed.

An ominous silence filled the cafeteria. Swallowing hard, the nubby-horned troll turned to peek at the other occupied table. A pair of intense green eyes flaming with the molten fires of motherhood burned into his own.

“Oh. Uh. We should probably get back to work, right John?”

“Bluh? But we don't--” The green eyes shifted to stab daggers at another target. “I mean, yeah! Yeah, we have that... that one case. Very pressing. Sorry to eat and run, but we really must be off!”

Unsympathetic snickers followed them as they beat a hasty retreat.

* * *

Morning passed into afternoon, which shifted inevitably into night. Two figures dragged themselves from a cop car, stretching out their sore muscles after a day of chasing down clues and culprits. A third figure slid out from the driver's seat, adjusting his signature white hat.

“Hey, thanks for the help today, detectives. Surprising as it was,” Problem Sleuth added with a raised eyebrow. “Didn't you say this case was 'too much runaround for too boring a job,' before?”

John grumbled. “Something came up,” he pouted.

PS snickered. “Did you get kicked out?”

Karkat flushed, but said nothing. His wiry black hair was matted with white paint, which was, as they say, _a long story_. At the very least, it was likely to amuse Jade enough to let them back inside.

Sleuth bid them a cheery goodnight and drove away, leaving the two men to shuffle tiredly past the guards posted at the gate to Harley Research. They were allowed inside, at least, so Jade couldn't still be _that_ mad. By even greater luck, they managed to enter the building and make it to their quarters without running into her at all. She was probably already asleep, they realized.

Karkat heaved a great sigh as they locked the door. “The next time I'm about to run my mouth in front of the grub, stop me.”

“Like this?” John asked, wrapping his arms around him and leaning down to kiss him thoroughly. Judging by the enthusiasm of the troll's return embrace, he deduced that his chosen method was acceptable. Hands began to wander, perhaps not confidently, but not as timidly as they once did. One wandered up into Karkat's hair, where it promptly got stuck.

They broke apart, chuckling as John untangled his fingers from the crusted strands. “How about if I go wash my hair?” Karkat conceded.

“Would you like some paint thinner?” John asked with a grin. Karkat snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Are you trying to make me go _bald?_ I'll make do. Go keep the bed warm or something, assh--”

A sudden kiss cut the explicative off. They parted again, a bit shorter of breath than before. “Just practicing,” the human said with a twinkle in his eye.

“Uh-huh. Are you sure you're not trying to encourage me, instead? Because I don't see how that shit's going to curb—mmph!”

This time when they parted, Karkat was silent. “See, you're learning already!” The troll just shook his head, trying and failing to maintain a scowl.

* * *

It was much later by the time Karkat finally got all the paint out. As he emerged from the bathroom, still toweling off his hair, he spotted John and couldn't help but smile. It appeared that his matesprit had risked slipping down the hall to the lab showers, returned safely, and crashed on the bed. His long form was slightly curled, hands tucked under his chin and eyes gently closed. His chest rose and fell in soft, peaceful breaths.

Little by little, time had been healing wounds.

Karkat crawled into bed beside him, taking his accustomed spot. John stirred and nuzzled his head under the troll's chin. “Hey, John,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around him. “I have a secret.”

“Do you, now?” his lover murmured sleepily, a smile tugging at his lips. “What could it be, I wonder?”

Fangs glinted in the darkness as the troll grinned. “I'll never tell.”

A chuckle. “Then I shall just have to figure it out for myself.”

“Oh? And what will you do with it, when you do?”

John slipped an arm around Karkat as well, pulling him closer and whispering the familiar answer into his ear. Karkat laughed and closed his eyes, exhausted but filled with joy. Soon the room was quiet once more, save for the contented breathing of two lovers, dreaming about words that didn't need to be said and secrets that didn't have to be shared.

 _I'll keep it._


End file.
